KATHERINE'S 
SHEAVES 


"This  is  Miss  Minturn,  who  is  to  room  with  you." 

(See  page  27) 


KATHERINE'S 
SHEAVES 


By 

MRS.  GEORGIE  SHELDON 

(Mrs.  George  Sheldon  Downs) 


NEW    YORK 
THE    FEDERAL    BOOK    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


CO  PYRIGHT,    i  904 

BY      .... 

STREET    & 

SMITH 

D       AT 

E  N  T  E  R  E 

STATIONER' 

S   HALL 

SHEAVES 

KATHERINE'S 

To  her, 
Who  led  my  newly  awakened 

thought 
Towards  a  higher  understand- 

ing of  God, 
And  opened  before  me  broader 

vistas  of  the  Life  immortal 
That  is  born  of  Truth  and 

Love, 


My  Teacher 

F.  S.  K. 
this  story  is  lovingly  dedicated 


The  words 
Science  and  Health 


which  appear  at  marginal 
references 


refer  to 

The  Christian  Science  Text  Book 
'Science  and  Health, 

with  ' 
Key  to  the  Scriptures  ' 

by 
Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy 


CONTENTS 


aeusu 

CHAPTER 

ara*aeN»»v» 

PAGE 

I. 

At  Hilton  Seminary     ..... 

II 

II. 

Katherine  and  Her  Roommate    . 

-            23 

III. 

Dorothy          

•            36 

IV. 

Phillip  Harris  Stanley,  M.  D.       . 

49 

V. 

Katherine's  First  Sabbath  at  Hilton 

61 

VI. 

Materia  Medica  and  Miracles 

•       74 

VII. 

Katherine  and  the  Junior  League 

.       85 

VIII. 

Transcendentalism   as   Elucidated   for    the 

Junior  League       ..... 

.        100 

IX. 

Katherine  Makes  a  Demonstration    . 

•     H5 

X. 

Mrs.  Seabrook's  Problem     .... 

129 

XL 

Dr.  Stanley  Asks  Some  Questions 

.     141 

XII. 

Prof.    Seabrook's   Ultimatum  —  and   Broken 

Rules     ,     . 

•     153 

XIII. 

The  Story  of  a  Stray  Waif  .... 

.      167 

XIV. 

A  Sophomore  Racket  ..... 

.     179 

XV. 

"Hilton  Volunteers"    ..... 

•     193 

XVI. 

A  Junior  Entertainment      .... 

.     207 

XVII. 

Dr.  Stanley  Has  An  Object  Lesson    . 

.      221 

XVIII. 

Sadie  Receives  an  Opportune  Invitation  . 

•       236 

XIX. 

Mrs.  Seabrook  Takes  a  Stand 

•       251 

XX. 

Interesting  Developments  .         .        ... 

.       266 

XXI. 

The  Traveler  Returns          .... 

.       282 

XXII. 

Phillip  Stanley's  First  Demonstration 

.       297 

XXIII. 

Mrs.  Mintttrn  Visits  Hilton          ... 

.      310 

XXIV. 

The  End  of  School  Days      .        .... 

•      323 

XXV. 

A  Momentous  Errand  .        -."        .        .    '    . 

•     337 

XXVI. 

Conclusion 

351 

KATHERINE'S 

SHEAVES. 

CHAPTER  I. 

At  Hilton  Seminary. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  on  the  opening 
day  of  the  midwinter  term  at  Hilton  Seminary,  a 
noted  institution  located  in  a  beautiful  old  town  of 
Western  New  York. 

A  group  of  gay  girls  had  just  gathered  in  one  of  the 
pleasant  and  spacious  recreation  rooms  and  were  chat- 
tering like  the  proverbial  flock  of  magpies — exchan- 
ging merry  greetings  after  their  vacation ;  comparing 
notes  on  studies,  classes  and  roommates;  discussing 
the  advent  of  new  teachers,  pupils  and  improvements, 
when  a  tall,  gracious  woman  of,  perhaps,  thirty-five 
years  suddenly  appeared  in  the  doorway,  her  fair  face 
gleaming  with  humorous  appreciation  of  the  animated 
scene  and  babel  before  her,  and  enjoined  silence  with 
the  uplifting  of  one  slim  white  hand. 

There  was  an  instantaneous  hush,  as  the  bevy  of 
maidens  turned  their  bright  faces  and  affectionate 
glances  upon  their  teacher,  who,  evidently,  was  a  prime 
favorite  with  them  all. 


12  KATHERINE'S 

"What  is  it,  Miss  Reynolds?  What  can  we  do  for 
you?"  eagerly  queried  several  of  the  group,  as  they 
sprang  forward  to  ascertain  her  wishes. 

"Is  Miss  Minturn  in  the  room  ?  I  am  looking  for  a 
new  pupil  who  arrived  this  morning,"  the  teacher  re- 
sponded, her  genial,  friendly  blue  eyes  roving  from  face 
to  face  in  search  of  the  stranger  to  whom  she  had  re- 
ferred. 

A  young  girl,  who  had  been  sitting  by  herself  in  a 
remote  corner  of  the  room,  arose  and  moved  towards 
the  speaker. 

"I  am  Katherine  Minturn,"  she  said,  with  quiet  self- 
possession,  yet  flushing  slightly  beneath  the  many 
curious  glances  bent  upon  her,  as  her  soft,  brown  eyes 
met  the  smiling  blue  ones. 

She  was,  apparently,  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  a 
little  above  medium  height,  her  form  slight  but  almost 
perfect  in  its  proportions.  A  wealth  of  hair,  match- 
ing the  color  of  her  eyes,  crowned  a  small,  shapely  head, 
and  contrasted  beautifully  with  a  creamy  complexion, 
the  delicacy  of  which  was  relieved  chiefly  by  the  vivid 
scarlet  of  her  lips.  Her  features  were  clear-cut  and 
very  attractive — at  least  so  thought  Miss  Reynolds  as 
she  studied  the  symmetrical  brow,  the  large,  thoughtful 
eyes,  the  tender  mouth  and  prettily  rounded  chin  curv- 
ing so  gracefully  into  the  white,  slender  neck. 

"Ah !  Miss  Minturn.  I  have  had  quite  a  search  for 
you,"  she  said,  reaching  out  a  cordial  hand  to  her; 
for,  despite  the  girl's  self-poise,  she  had  caught  a 
quiver  of  loneliness  on  the  expressive  face.  "I  am 
Miss  Reynolds,  the  teacher  of  mathematics,  and  I  have 
been  commissioned  by  Prof.  Seabrook  to  find  and 


SHEAVES  13 

show  you  to  his  study.  But  first,  let  me  present  you 
to  these  chatterers." 

She  dropped  the  hand  that  was  trembling  in  her 
clasp,  and,  slipping  a  reassuring  arm  about  the  girl's 
waist,  continued : 

"Young  ladies,  this  is  Miss  Minturn,  a  new  junior. 
I  can't  present  each  of  you  formally,  for  she  is  wanted 
immediately  elsewhere;  but  I  will  see  that  she  finds 
you  all  out  later." 

{Catherine  nodded  a  smiling  acknowledgment  to  the 
vigorous  clapping  of  hands  and  the  hearty  "Welcome, 
Miss  Minturn,  to  Hilton."  Then  Miss  Reynolds  led 
her  away,  and  the  interrupted  chatter  of  the  magpies 
was  resumed  with  redoubled  animation,  but  now  the 
new  junior  absorbed  the  attention  of  everyone. 

"Say,  girls,  isn't  she  a  dear?"  "Came  this  morning, 
did  she?  where  from,  I  wonder?"  "My!  but  wasn't 
that  a  nobby  traveling  suit,  and  such  a  fit !"  "Katherine 
Minturn — pretty  name,  isn't  it?"  "Does  anybody 
know  anything  more  about  her?"  were  some  of  the 
comments  and  queries  that  slipped  from  those  supple 
instruments  with  a  tendency  towards  perpetual  mo- 
tion, which,  sometimes,  are  described  as  organs  that 
are  hung  in  the  middle  and  wag  at  both  ends — school- 
girls' tongues. 

"Hush  ! — sh  ! — sh !  Oh,  girls,  do  ring  off,  and  per- 
haps I  can  give  you  a  point  or  two,"  cried  a  high- 
pitched  voice  with  an  unmistakable  Southern  drawl,  as 
a  somewhat  overdressed  girl  of  nineteen  or  twenty 
years  re-enforced  her  appeal  by  vigorous  gestures  to 
attract  attention,  whereupon  the  ever  alert  spirit  of 
Curiosity  silenced  every  loquacious  chatterer,  except 


1 4  KATHERINE'S 

one  who  solemnly  announced,  "Ladies,  Miss  Minot 
has  the  floor !" 

"Yes,"  the  speaker  observed,  "the  new  junior  does 
strike  one  as  being  downright  stunning.  She  came 
from  New  York  City,  and" — with  a  lugubrious  sigh — 
"though  I've  never  set  eyes  on  her  before,  I  was  in- 
formed this  morning  that  she  is  to  be  my  roommate 
for  the  remainder  of  the  year." 

A  burst  of  mirthful  laughter  rippled  over  a  dozen 
pairs  of  rosy  lips  at  this  last  mournfully  conveyed  in- 
formation. 

"Aha !  at  last  Miss  Sadie  Minot  has  got  to  come 
down  to  the  lot  of  common  mortals  and  take  in  a 
chum !"  cried  a  merry  sprite,  with  a  saucy  chuckle. 
"Oh,  how  you  have  spread  yourself  and  luxuriated  in 
your  solitary  magnificence,  and  how  every  mother's 
daughter  of  us  has  envied  you  your  spacious  quarters ! 
Well,  you  know  what  old  Sol.  said  about  'pride'  and  a 
'haughty  spirit,'  and  the  'fall'  always  comes,  first  or  last. 
But,  Sadie,  xny  love,  be  comforted,"  she  continued,  with 
mock  sympathy,  "and  just  try  to  realize  what  splendid 
discipline  it  will  be  for  you ;  one  cannot  have  everything 
one  wants,  you  know,  even  if  one  is  an  heiress  in  one's 
own  right — eh,  dearie?" 

"But  there's  only  one  closet,  and  it  is  so  full  now," 
sighed  Miss  Minot,  ruefully. 

"Hear!  hear!"  retorted  the  same  mischievous  maiden, 
whose  name  was  QaraFollet.  "After  having  had  un- 
disturbed possession  of  a  whole  room  and  closet  for 
six  long  months  she  ungratefully  bemoans — 

"And  only  one  chest  of  drawers,"  pursued  Sadie,  in 
the  same  strain,  but  with  a  comical  quirk  of  an  eye. 


SHEAVES  15 

A  chorus  of  mocking  groans  and  derisive  laughter 
greeted  this  wail. 

"And  all  four  crammed  full  with  her  superfluous 
finery,"  cried  another  of  the  merry  group.  "What- 
ever will  you  do  with  it  now,  Sadie?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  Ollie,"  retorted  the  pretty 
"heiress,"  with  a  quizzical  uplifting  of  her  brows,  "un- 
less you  take  half  of  it  off  my  hands  altogether,  in- 
stead of  coming  to  borrow  so  often." 

Shrieks  of  appreciative  mirth  followed  this  deftly 
shot  arrow,  for  it  was  a  well-known  fact  that  Ollie 
Grant,  the  pet  of  the  school,  was  an  easy-going  little 
body,  very  prone  to  allow  her  wardrobe  to  get  in  a  sad 
plight  and  then  throw  herself  upon  the  mercy  of  others, 
to  patch  her  up,  in  the  event  of  an  emergency. 

But  Miss  Ollie  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"Really,  Sadie,  that  would  help  you  out,  wouldn't 
it?  and  save  me  a  lot  of  trotting  back  and  forth,"  she 
demurely  responded,  though  the  dimples  played  a 
lively  game  of  hide-and-seek  in  her  plump  cheeks. 
"There's  such  a  love  of  a  lace  jacket  in  her  second 
drawer,  girls ;  my  eyes  water  with  envy  every  time  I 
get  a  glimpse  of  it ;  and  a  few  of  those  ravishing  stocks 
that  you've  been  laying  in  of  late  wouldn't  come  amiss. 
There's  that  lavender  satin  waist,  too,  you  bought  at 
Jerome's  the  other  day.  I  know  I  should  look  per- 
fectly killing  in  it ;  and — oh !  ye  Hiltonites ! — she  has 
just  bought  six  of  the  sweetest  corset  covers  you  ever 
laid  eyes  on  ;  think  of  it ! — six !  She  could  spare  three 
just  as  well  as  not,  and  I'm  sure  she  has  at  least  a 
dozen  pairs  of  silk  stockings,  while" — with  a  doleful 
sigh — "I  don't  own  a  blessed  one.  Then  there  are 


16  KATHERINE'S 

ribbons  and  laces,  fans  and  handkerchiefs  galore. 
Don't  you  think  it  would  be  an  act  of  mercy  if  I  would 
agree  to  take  some  of  these  superfluities  off  her  hands, 
rather  than  have  them  ruthlessly  crushed  into  half  their 
allotted  space?  And " 

"Ollie!  Ollie! — what  an  incorrigible  little  tease  you 
are !"  laughingly  interposed  Miss  Minot,  as  she  play- 
fully tweaked  the  girl's  ear.  "I  wonder  how  long  the 
things  would  last  you  if  you  had  them  all !" 

"Oh,  probably  two  or  three  times  wearing  around, 
providing  they  didn't  come  to  mending  before  that," 
mused  the  "Pet,"  with  a  speculative  look  in  her  blue 
eyes,  but  with  a  quiver  of  the  dimples  that  evoked 
another  paroxysm  of  laughter  from  her  audience. 
"But  I  say,  Sadie,"  she  went  on  with  the  next  breath, 
"Miss  Minturn  is  a  downright  sweet-looking  girl, 
and  I'll  wager  a — a  darning  needle  against  a  pair  of 
those  silk  stockings  you'll  find  her  O.  K.  Maybe  she'll 
let  you  have  an  extra  drawer  and  a  hook  or  two  in  the 
closet." 

"I  don't  feel  very  hopeful,  so  I  won't  take  you  up," 
sighed  Sadie ;  "for  when  I  came  in  from  my  walk  I 
saw  a  big  trunk,  with  'K.  M.'  on  it,  in  the  hall,  and 
it  looks  to  me  as  if  I — I'm  destined  to  go  through  a 
different  kind  of  'cramming'  process  this  year,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  usual  one." 

This  self-inflicted  shot  now  turned  the  laugh  again 
upon  the  speaker,  for  it  was  an  open  secret  that  the 
Southern  heiress  dearly  loved  her  ease  and  took  it,  up 
to  the  last  moment,  then  had  to  "cram  for  all  she  was 
worth"  to  get  ready  for  "exams." 

While  this  chatter  and  fun  were  going  on  in  the 


SHEAVES  17 

recreation  room,  Katherine  Minturn  had  been  con- 
ducted to  the  study  of  Prof.  Seabrook,  by  whom  she 
was  received  with  his  customary  courtesy. 

The  principal  of  Hilton  Seminary  was  a  distin- 
guished-appearing gentleman  of  fifty  years,  possessing 
a  strong,  intellectual,  yet  refined  face,  whose  chief  charm 
was  a  pair  of  large,  expressive  blue-gray  eyes  that 
could  be  most  winningly  kind,  or  most  coldly  and 
blightingly  stern,  as  the  case  might  be. 

"Be  seated,  Miss  Minturn,"  he  courteously  com- 
manded, as  Miss  Reynolds  excused  herself  and  with- 
drew, and  indicating  a  chair  near  the  table  by  which 
he  had  been  sitting  when  she  entered. 

Katherine  obeyed,  feeling  strongly  attracted  to  the 
man  by  his  genial  manner,  even  though  she  knew  that 
his  keen  but  friendly  eyes  were  intent  upon  reading 
what  lay  beneath  her  exterior. 

"I  suppose  you  feel  that  you  have  had  rather  a  hard 
day,"  he  continued,  glancing  significantly  at  some 
closely  written  sheets  which  he  had  evidently  been 
looking  over  when  she  entered,  and  which  she  instantly 
recognized  as  her  examination  papers. 

"Not  at  all,"  she  quietly  returned,  lifting  her  clear 
eyes  to  him,  and  he  marveled  at  the  unclouded  serenity 
in  their  pure  depths. 

"Indeed !"  and  he  could  not  quite  conceal  his  sur- 
prise. "It  is  a  rare  event  for  a  young  lady  to  make 
such  an  admission  after  a  rigid  ordeal  like  what  you 
have  sustained  this  afternoon.  However,  I  am  happy 
to  inform  you  that  you  are  unconditionally  admitted  to 
the  junior  class ;  your  papers  do  you  great  credit,  Miss 
Minturn.  I  had  not  expected  quite  so  much  from  you, 


1 8  KATHERINE'S 

as  you  had  told  me  that  you  left  school  last  year,  a 
sophomore,  and  have  been  traveling  abroad  until  re- 
cently. I  feared  we  might  have  to  ask  you  to  review 
a  little,  for  it  is  rather  unusual  for  a  pupil  to  enter  an 
advanced  class  in  the  middle  of  the  year." 

"But  I  have  not  been  idle  since  leaving  school," 
Katherine  replied,  a  happy  gleam  in  her  eyes,  for  his 
commendation  was  very  gratifying  to  her;  "although 
we  were  abroad  for  several  months,  we  were  often 
located  in  some  place  for  weeks  at  a  time,  and  mamma, 
having  once  been  a  teacher  at  Vassar,  coached  me  for 
the  junior  class." 

"Ah !  that  explains  your  proficiency.  How  con- 
venient to  have  an  ex-Vassar  in  the  family !"  Prof. 
Seabrook  smilingly  observed.  "All  the  same,  I  am 
sure  the  daughter  deserves  some  commendation  for 
work  conscientiously  done." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Katherine,  a  flush  of  pleasure 
tingeing  her  cheeks. 

The  principal  then  proceeded  to  give  her  some  in- 
formation regarding  her  classes  and  the  ground  to  be 
covered  in  her  various  studies  during  the  coming  term, 
after  which  he  asked  some  questions  as  to  her  recent 
travels,  whereupon  they  fell  into  a  pleasant  chat  about 
points  of  interest  which  both  had  visited,  and  thus  a 
delightful  half  hour  slipped  away.  At  length  Prof. 
Seabrook  referred  to  a  book  that  lay  on  the  table  be- 
side him,  and  observed : 

"I  find,  Miss  Minturn,  that  you  are  to  room  with 
Miss  Sadie  Minot,  a  young  lady  from  Atlanta,  Georgia, 
and  I  think  you  will  find  her  an  agreeable  companion. 
However" — with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eyes — "to 


SHEAVES  19 

use  a  homely  proverb,  'it  is  Hobson's  choice,'  for  it 
happens  to  be  the  only  vacancy  in  the  building;  we 
have  a  very  full  school  this  year.  I  will  call  some  one 
to  show  you  how  to  find  it,  and  have  your  trunk  sent 
up  later." 

He  touched  a  bell  and  presently  a  young  girl  about 
sixteen  entered  the  room,  with  a  brisk  step  and  an 
alert  air,  suggestive  of  a  repressed  cyclone  only  await- 
ing an  opportunity  for  mischief  brewing ;  while,  as  she 
approached  the  occupants,  a  strong  odor  of  peppermint 
made  itself  apparent  in  the  atmosphere. 

"Miss  Minturn,  this  is  Miss  Wild,  one  of  our  breezy 
freshmen — eh,  Jennie?"  and  the  quizzical  look  again 
leaped  into  the  blue-gray  eyes. 

Katherine  smilingly  acknowledged  the  introduction, 
while  Miss  Wild  blushed  and  nodded  an  embarrassed 
greeting,  then  immediately  turned  her  face  away  from 
the  focus  of  the  professor's  observation  and  made  a 
comical  grimace  which  came  very  near  proving  too 
much  for  Katherine's  dignity. 

"Jennie,"  the  gentleman  continued,  "Miss  Minturn 
is  to  share  Miss  Minot's  room — number  fifteen,  west 
wing — and  I  have  called  you  to  show  her  the  way,  if 
you  please." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  will,"  said  the  girl,  with  ready  compli- 
ance, which  culminated  in  a  vigorous  sneeze,  where- 
upon, with  the  restless  energy  which  pervaded  her 
every  movement,  she  whisked  her  handkerchief  from 
her  pocket,  and,  with  it,  there  shot  out  a  promiscuous 
assortment  of  chocolates  and  cream  peppermints,  which 
went  bounding  and  rolling  about  the  room  in  every 
direction. 


20  KATHERINE'S 

Prof.  Seabrook  gave  vent  to  a  hearty  laugh  of 
amusement  at  the  awkward  contretemps. 

"I  thought  I  detected  a  familiar  odor,  Jennie,"  he 
observed;  then  added,  good-naturedly,  "You  may  pick 
them  up,  if  you  please." 

"Guess  I  will,"  she  returned,  eagerly,  and  nimbly 
suiting  the  action  to  her  words.  "I  really  can't  afford 
to  lose  all  that  precious  sweetness.  Josie  Craig  gave 
them  to  me  just  as  you  rang." 

Katherine  had  risen  and  was  moving  towards  the 
door,  to  cover  her  own  inclination  to  explode,  and  thus 
make  the  situation  more  awkward  for  the  girl,  when 
the  principal  checked  her  by  remarking: 

"By  the  way,  Miss  Minturn,  the  juniors  and  seniors 
attend  the  Bible  class,  which  it  is  my  province  to  con- 
duct. We  meet  at  four  on  Sunday  afternoons  in  the 
south  recitation  room ;  and  the  lesson  for  next  Sabbath 
will  be  on  the  Creation,  as  given  in  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis.  And  this  reminds  me  that  I  have  neglected 
to  inquire  where  you  will  attend  church.  As  our  cat- 
alogue states,  each  student  is  allowed  to  choose  her 
own  place  of  worship.  Where  do  you  propose  to  make 
your  church  home?" 

Katherine  had  expected  this  question  before ;  never- 
theless, she  flushed  slightly  as  she  turned  back  to  face 
her  interlocutor,  and  replied : 

"I  am  a  Christian  Scientist,  Prof.  Seabrook,  and  I 
shall  attend  the  church  on  Grove  Street." 

The  pause  which  followed  this  announcement  was 
painfully  ominous,  and  Katherine  was  amazed  at  the 
frozen  look  which  suddenly  settled  over  the  gentle- 
man's face,  together  with  the  expression  of  stern  dis- 


SHEAVES  21 

approbation  which  instantly  drove  all  the  kindness  out 
of  his  hitherto  genial  eyes. 

"A  Christian  Scientist ! — indeed !"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
as  frigid  as  his  look.  "It  is  a  matter  of  regret  to  me 
that  you  did  not  state  that  fact  when  you  made  ap- 
plication for  admission  to  Hilton." 

Katherine's  lip  quivered  slightly  at  this  caustic  re- 
mark and  the  accompanying  scorn  on  the  high-bred 
face ;  and  the  flush  which  had  risen  to  her  cheek  a  mo- 
ment before  vanished,  leaving  her  quite  pale,  although 
in  no  way  disconcerted. 

"But  I  believe  the  catalogue  states  that  there  is  no 
sectarianism  in  Hilton  Seminary,  that  the  broadest  pos- 
sible religious  tolerance  prevails  here,"  she  remarked, 
with  a  sweet  gentleness  which,  under  any  other  cir- 
cumstances, would  have  instantly  disarmed  her  com- 
panion. 

But,  as  it  happened,  he  was  a  bitter  opponent  of  the 
"false  doctrine,"  and  the  term  "Science"  applied  to 
Christianity  was  a  rank  offense  to  his  rigid  Presby- 
terian opinions,  as  was  also  the  fact  that  a  woman  had 
dared  to  face  the  world  with  it ! 

"I  do  not  recognize  Christian  Science,  so-called,  as  a 
religion,"  he  retorted,  with  a  sharpness  in  marked 
contrast  to  Katherine's  sweetness.  "In  my  opinion,  it 
is  simply  a  device  and  snare  of  Satan  himself  to  de- 
ceive the  very  elect ;  and  Miss  Minturn" — this  with 
frowning  emphasis — "I  will  not,  for  a  moment,  tol- 
erate the  promulgation  of  its  fallacious  teachings  in 
this  school.  I  trust  I  make  myself  understood." 

Katherine  had  not  once  removed  her  clear,  brown 
eyes  from  his  countenance  during  this  speech,  but 


22  KATHERINE'S 

there  was  not  the  slightest  manifestation  of  resentment 
on  her  own — only  an  expression  of  tender  regret,  as 
if  she  were  sorry  for  him,  because  of  the  sense  of  dis- 
cord that  seemed  to  hold  possession  of  him. 

"You  mean  that  I  am  not  to  talk  it  here?"  she  said. 

"Exactly;  nor  flaunt  it  in  any  way." 

"I  will  not,  sir,"  with  gentle  gravity;  then  a  little 
smile  curving  her  red  lips,  she  added :  "Christian  Sci- 
ence, Prof.  Seabrook,  is  a  religion  of  Love,  and  I  will 
simply  try  to  live  it." 

The  principal  of  Hilton  flushed  to  his  brows  before 
this  unassuming  girl,  a  circumstance  unprecedented  in 
the  annals  of  the  institution. 

Her  look,  her  tone,  the  softly  spoken  words — all 
radiated  love,  and  his  arrogant  spirit  felt  the  gentle 
rebuke. 

"Have  you  that  book,  'Science  and  Health,'  with 
you?"  he  curtly  demanded. 

Katherine's  heart  leaped  within  her.  Did  he  mean 
to  deprive  her  of  her  daily  bread? 

"Yes,  sir,"  with  unfaltering  glance  and  voice. 

"Then  keep  it  out  of  sight,"  he  briefly  commanded, 
adding,  in  a  tone  of  dismissal,  as  he  took  up  his  pen : 
"That  is  all,  Miss  Minturn." 

Katherine  bowed  respectfully,  then  quietly  followed 
Jennie  Wild  from  the  room. 


SHEAVES  23 


CHAPTER    II. 

Katherine  and  Her  Roommate. 

As  the  two  girls  were  passing  through  the  main 
building  on  their  way  to  number  fifteen,  west  wing, 
Katherine  turned  to  her  companion  and  observed,  in  a 
friendly  tone : 

"So  this  is  your  first  year  in  Hilton  Seminary,  Miss 
Wild?" 

Jennie,  who  had  been  "just  boiling" — as  she  told  her 
later — over  the  professor's  recent  crankiness  and  se- 
verity, turned  to  Katherine  in  unfeigned  surprise,  for 
there  was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  resentment  or  per- 
sonal affront  in  either  her  voice  or  manner. 

Her  brown  eyes  were  as  serene  as  a  May  morning; 
her  scarlet  lips  were  parted  in  a  sunny  smile  that  just 
disclosed  her  white,  even  teeth,  and  her  voice  was  clear 
and  sweet,  without  even  a  quiver  to  betray  emotion  of 
any  kind. 

Jennie  Wild  was  a  girl  of  many  moods.  Possessing 
the  kindest  heart  in  the  world,  and  ever  ready  to  run 
her  nimble  feet  off  to  do  any  one  a  good  turn,  she  was 
at  the  same  time  a  veritable  little  "snapdragon."  Touch 
her  ever  so  lightly,  and  off  she  would  go  into  par- 
oxysms of  mirth  or  rage,  sympathy  or  scorn,  as  the 
case  might  be.  Consequently  she  had  looked  for  an 
outburst,  or  at  least  some  manifestation,  of  indignation 


24  KATHERINE'S 

on  Katherine's  part,  over  the  principal's  recent  sharp- 
ness and  ungracious  treatment. 

"Yes,  I'm  a  freshie,"  the  girl  replied,  with  a  nod  and 
one  of  her  comical  grimaces,  but  still  curiously  study- 
ing the  placid  face  beside  her,  "but  I'm  not  here  as  you 
are.  I'm  a  working  student" — this  with  a  rising  flush 
and  defiant  toss  of  her  pert  little  head. 

"  'A  working  student  ?'  "  repeated  Katherine,  in- 
quiringly. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  laconically.  "I  can't  afford  to 
pay  full  tuition,  so  I  wait  on  Prof.  Seabrook  and  his 
wife,  and  do  other  kinds  of  work  to  make  up  the  rest. 
You  see" — the  flush  creeping  higher,  but  with  a  secret 
determination  to  "sound"  the  new  junior — "I  haven't 
any  father  or  mother,  and  my  aunt,  who  has  always 
taken  care  of  me,  is  poor,  and  there  was  no  other  way 
to  finish  my  education  after  leaving  the  high  school — 
see?" 

"Yes,  I  understand,  and  I  think  you  are  a  dear, 
brave  girl  to  do  it,"  said  Katherine,  with  shining  eyes, 
and  laying  a  friendly  hand  on  her  shoulder  as  they  be- 
gan to  mount  the  stairs  leading  to  the  second  story. 

"Do  you — truly?"  queried  Jennie,  with  a  glad  ring 
in  her  tones.  "My !  I  believe  I  feel  two  inches  taller 
for  that" — throwing  back  her  head  proudly;  "you've 
given  me  a  lift,  Miss  Minturn,  that  I  shan't  forget; 
nobody  has  ever  said  anything  so  kind  to  me  before. 
I  tell  you" — confidentially — "it  does  take  a  lot  of  cour- 
age sometimes  to  buckle  on  to  a  hard  lesson,  after 
running  up  and  downstairs  forty  times  a  day,  besides 
no  end  of  other  things  to  do.  Most  of  the  girls  are 
pretty  good  to  me ;  though,  now  and  then,  there's  one 


SHEAVES  25 

who  thinks  she  was  cut  out  of  finer  cloth.  I  dote  on 
the  professor,  even  if  he  does  get  a  bit  cranky  some- 
times, like  to-day,  when  something  ruffles  his  stately 
feathers.  His  wife  is  lovely,  too,  and  the  teachers  are 
all  nice.  But  don't  call  me  Miss  Wild,  please.  I'm 
'Jennie'  to  everybody.  'Wild  Jennie'  most  of  the  girls 
call  me,  and  there  really  is  a  harum-scarum  streak  in 
me  that  does  get  the  best  of  me  sometimes,"  she  con- 
cluded, with  a  mischievous  flash  in  her  dark  eyes. 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to  call  you  Jennie,  if  you  wish, 
and  my  name  is  Katherine,  with  a  'K,'  "  said  that  young 
lady,  with  an  inviting  smile. 

"I'm  sure  there  isn't  any  'harum-scarum'  about 
you,"  said  the  girl,  gravely,  as  she  searched  the  sweet, 
brown  eyes. 

"That  depends  upon  what  you  mean  by  the  term," 
responded  Katherine,  with  a  ripple  of  mirthful  laugh- 
ter. "I  assure  you  I  love  a  good  time  as  well  as  any 
other  girl." 

"U-m — p'rhaps ;  but  I  guess  it  would  have  to  be 
a — a — genteel  good  time.  There's  one  thing  I  don't 
need  to  'guess'  about,  though — you  just  know  how  to 
stand  firm  on  your  heels  when  you  need  to." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?"  questioned  Katherine, 
with  a  look  of  perplexity. 

"Nobody  will  ever  make  you  take  a  back  seat — not 
even  his  highness  downstairs,  when  you  know  you're 
right.  I  say,  though" — she  interposed,  eagerly — 
"weren't  you  mad,  through  and  through,  at  what  he 
said  to  you  just  now?" 

"Mad?"  repeated  Katherine,  flushing,  and  wonder- 
ing if  she  had  unconsciously  manifested  anything  that 


26  KATHERINE'S 

had  seemed  like  anger  or  temper  during  the  recent  in- 
terview. 

"Yes;  didn't  you  feel  as  if  you'd  just  like  to  go  at 
him  with  'hammer  and  tongs'  " — doubling  up  her  fists 
and  striking  out  suggestively  right  and  left — "for  be- 
ing so  crusty  with  you  about  your  religion?  I  did." 

Katherine  laughed  out  merrily  at  the  girl's  strenuous 
espousal  of  her  cause,  and  with  a  sense  of  relief  to 
know  that  she  had  shown  no  feeling  unworthy  of  a 
Christian  Scientist. 

"No,  dear,"  she  gently  replied,  "I  could  not  feel 
anger  or  resentment  towards  any  one  because  of  a 
mere  difference  of  opinion." 

"U-m !  well,  you  didn't  show  any,  that's  sure.  You 
just  faced  him,  sweet  as  a  peach,  but  like  a — a  queen 
who  knows  she's  on  her  own  ground.  I  thought, 
though,  you  might  be  just  boiling  over  inside;  but  if 
you  say  you  weren't,  I  believe  you,  for  I  think  you're 
'true  blue/  and  I  think  Prof.  Seabrook  might  have 
learned  a  lesson  from  you,  for  I  never  saw  him  quite 
so  upset  over  a  little  thing  before.  I  never  had  any 
use  for  Christian  Scientists  myself;  don't  know  any- 
thing about  'em,  in  fact.  But  if  they're  all  like  you,  I 
don't  believe  they'll  ever  do  much  harm  in  the  world. 
Here  we  are,  though — this  is  Sadie's  room.  She's  an 
orphan,  too,  but  she  is  very  rich,  and  I  tell  you  she 
just  knows  how  to  make  her  money  fly — isn't  a  bit 
stingy  with  others,  either,"  the  voluble  girl  concluded, 
as  she  paused  before  a  door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs 
in  the  second  story  of  the  west  wing  and  rapped  vig- 
orously upon  it  for  admittance. 

"Come  in,"  responded  a  good-natured  voice,  where- 


SHEAVES  27 

upon  Jennie  opened  the  door  and  entered  a  sunny,  in- 
viting apartment,  the  sight  of  which  instantly  gave 
Katherine  a  homelike  feeling. 

She  also  saw  two  pretty  beds,  on  one  side  of  the 
room,  piled  high  with  a  motley  assortment  of  dresses 
and  finery  that  made  her  wonder  how  one  person  could 
ever  make  use  of  so  many  things,  while  an  attractive 
girl  was  sitting  upon  the  floor  before  the  one  dressing 
case,  her  face  flushed  and  perplexed  as  she  tried  to 
pack  another  promiscuous  collection  into  the  insuffi- 
cient space  that  would  henceforth  belong  to  her. 

"Miss  Minot,"  said  Jennie,  advancing  farther  into  the 
room  and  thus  revealing  her  companion,  "this  is  Miss 
Minturn,  who  is  to  room  with  you.  Prof.  Seabrook 
sent  me  to  show  her  here  and  to  introduce  her  to  you." 

Miss  Minot  sprang  to  her  feet  and  came  forward 
with  outstretched  hand,  her  manner  characterized  by 
true  Southern  hospitality. 

"Come  in,  Miss  Minturn,"  she  said,  cordially ;  "come 
right  in  and  sit  down,"  and  releasing  the  hand  she  had 
grasped,  she  whisked  two  or  three  skirts  off  a  rocker, 
tossing  them  upon  the  heap  on  one  of  the  beds.  "I 
knew  you  were  coming,  and  I've  been  working  right 
smart  to  get  ready  for  you.  I've  had  full  swing  here 
so  long  I've  filled  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  place, 
and  now" — with  a  shrug  and  a  deprecatory  smile — "I 
shall  have  to  learn  to  be  very  orderly  to  keep  from  en- 
croaching upon  your  territory.  But  there's  lots  of  time. 
The  things  can  wait  while  we  get  acquainted  a  little. 
Jennie,  you'll  have  to  take  the  trunk,"  she  concluded, 
with  a  careless  glance  at  the  girl. 

"I  haven't  time  to  sit  down,  Miss  Minot;  I've  my 


28  KATHERINE'S 

algebra  lesson  to  learn  for  to-morrow  morning,"  and 
Jennie,  flushing  with  sudden  anger  at  being  so  cur- 
sorily consigned  to  a  trunk,  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

Katherine  put  out  a  detaining  hand. 

"Thank  you,  Jennie,  for  coming  up  with  me,"  she 
said,  with  a  friendly  smile,  adding :  "And  I  hope  there 
will  be  no  more  interruptions  while  you  are  conning 
the  algebra  lesson." 

"I  hate  mathematics,"  Jennie  affirmed,  with  an  im- 
patient shrug,  "but  the  things  you  most  dislike  are 
supposed  to  do  you  the  most  good,  so  I  just  have  to 
bottle  up  when  it's  time  for  algebra  and  try  to  play 
'it's  an  angel  being  entertained  unawares.'  Good-by, 
Miss  Minturn.  I'll  see  you  again  later."  And  be- 
stowing a  bright  glance  and  nod  upon  her  new  friend, 
she  shut  the  door  and  went  whistling  cheerily  down 
the  hall. 

"That's  a  queer  'pickaninny' !  I  didn't  mean  to 
hurt  her,  though,"  observed  Miss  Minot,  as  she  curled 
herself  up  on  the  foot  of  a  bed,  preparatory  to  getting 
acquainted  with  her  new  roommate. 

"She  certainly  possesses  originality,"  Katherine 
laughingly  responded ;  "but  I  like  her  none  the  less  for 
that." 

"Poor  young  one !"  Sadie  continued.  "She  doesn't 
have  a  very  easy  time  of  it  here.  She  is  a  stray  waif, 
and  hasn't  a  relative  in  the  world,  to  her  knowledge." 

"She  spoke  of  an  aunt,"  interposed  Katherine. 

"She  calls  Miss  Wild  'aunt,'  but  she  isn't,  really,  and 
the  child  actually  does  not  know  her  own  name.  The 
way  of  it  was  this,"  Miss  Minot  went  on  to  explain : 
"When  she  was  a  baby  there  was  a  terrible  railway 


SHEAVES  29 

accident,  in  which  it  was  supposed  both  her  parents 
were  killed,  for  nobody  could  be  found  to  claim  the 
child  after  it  was  over;  and  Miss  Wild,  an  old  maid 
with  a  small  annuity,  was  on  the  same  train,  and,  like 
an  angel,  cared  for  her,  hoping  some  relative  would  be 
found  when  the  dead  were  identified ;  but  no  clew  to 
her  identity  was  ever  obtained,  and  the  woman  has 
done  the  best  she  could  for  her  all  these  years." 

"How  very  lovely  and  noble  of  Miss  Wild/'  breathed 
Katherine,  appreciatively.  Then,  glancing  around  the 
disorderly  room,  she  added :  "Now,  Miss  Minot,  I  feel 
almost  like  an  intruder  to  have  you  so  upset  on  my 
account.  Do  let  me  help  you  put  some  of  these  things 
away." 

"Oh,  never  mind  the  truck,"  Sadie  lazily  returned. 
"I'll  take  care  of  the  things  presently.  I'm  right  glad 
that  you  are  a  junior,"  she  resumed,  in  a  comfortable 
tone.  "It  is  so  much  nicer  to  have  a  roommate  who 
can  go  right  along  with  you,  and  I'm  sure  you'll  be  a 
great  help  to  me." 

Katherine  smiled  as  her  companion  thus  unwittingly 
revealed  a  strong  phase  of  her  character.  She  saw 
that  her  tendency  was  to  lean  upon  the  nearest  prop; 
and,  as  to  be  "forewarned  is  to  be  forearmed,"  she  re- 
solved to  govern  herself  accordingly. 

They  chatted  socially  until  the  janitor  appeared  with 
Katherine's  trunk,  whereupon  Sadie  bestirred  herself 
once  more  to  bring  order  out  of  chaos. 

This  was  much  easier  said  than  done,  and  as  she 
saw  that  she  was  going  to  be  very  much  crowded, 
Katherine  unpacked  but  very  few  things  at  that  time. 
She  generously  said  she  would  try  to  get  along  with 


30  KATHERINE'S 

one-third  of  the  closet  and  one  of  the  drawers  in  the 
bureau,  and  utilize  her  trunk  trays  for  her  own  waists 
and  finery,  while  she  could  stow  things  not  often  needed 
in  the  lower  portion. 

Later  she  hired  the  janitor  to  put  up  a  bracket  shelf 
in  one  corner  of  the  room,  tacking  a  long  chintz  cur- 
tain to  it,  and,  with  a  dozen  hooks  screwed  into  a  cleat 
underneath,  thus  improvised  a  very  convenient  little 
closet  for  her  individual  use. 

While  the  roommates  were  "becoming  acquainted," 
Jennie  Wild,  full  of  what  she  had  seen  and  heard,  and, 
for  the  time  being,  unmindful  of  the  waiting  algebra 
lesson,  rushed  down  to  the  recreation  room,  where 
many  of  the  students  were  still  congregated,  and  reeled 
off  her  news  to  a  bevy  of  curious  and  interested  lis- 
teners. 

The  information  that  the  new  junior  was  a  "Chris- 
tian Scientist"  created  quite  a  flutter  of  excitement. 
Some  were  horrified  and  indignant  because  such  a 
pariah  had  been  admitted  to  the  seminary ;  others  ridi- 
culed and  laughed  to  scorn  the  doctrines  of  the  "new 
cult,"  while  a  few  appeared  indifferent  and  declared 
that  every  one  had  a  right  to  her  own  opinion  upon 
religious  subjects. 

The  matter  was  pretty  thoroughly  canvassed,  how- 
ever, the  attitude  of  the  principal  having  weighty  in- 
fluence and  governing  the  preponderance  of  opinion; 
and  by  the  time  the  supper  bell  rang  almost  every 
student  in  the  house  had  learned  the  whole  story  and 
decided  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  she  would  give 
the  newcomer  a  wide  berth. 

Katherine  became  conscious  of  the  iciness  of  the  at- 


SHEAVES  31 

mosphere  the  moment  she  entered  the  dining  room  and 
came  under  the  battery  of  the  hundred  or  more  pairs 
of  curious  and  critical  eyes  that  were  eagerly  watching 
for  her  to  appear.  Miss  Reynolds,  who  had  overheard 
some  of  the  gossip  and  adverse  criticisms,  was  also  on 
the  lookout  for  her,  and  approaching  her  with  the  gra- 
ciousness  which  was  her  chief  charm,  observed : 

"Miss  Minturn,  I  have  made  a  place  for  you  at  my 
table.  Until  you  become  better  acquainted  and  choose 
your  permanent  seat,  you  shall  sit  close  under  the  shel- 
ter of  my  wings." 

"And  a  very  friendly  shelter,  I  am  sure,  I  shall  find 
it;  you  are  very  good,"  Katherine  replied,  with  quick 
appreciation. 

The  teacher  led  her  to  her  place,  and,  while  they 
stood  waiting  for  the  professor  to  give  the  signal  to 
be  seated,  introduced  her  to  two  or  three  of  the  girls 
in  their  vicinity. 

Katherine  keenly  felt,  and  Miss  Reynolds  noted  with 
increasing  displeasure,  the  quickly  averted  eyes  and 
cool  acknowledgment  of  these  introductions ;  but  the 
principal  drew  out  his  chair,  and  Katherine's  mo- 
mentary feeling  of  awkwardness  was  covered  by  the 
confusion  of  getting  into  place.  But  for  her  teacher 
she  would  have  had  a  very  lonely  and  silent  meal ;  for 
after  one  or  two  efforts  to  engage  her  nearest  neigh- 
bor in  conversation  had  been  coldly  repulsed,  the  tact- 
ful woman  threw  herself  into  the  gap  and  the  two 
chatted  socially  until  they  arose  from  the  table. 

"She  is  a  dear,  sweet  girl,  and  I  am  going  to  nip 
this  nonsense  in  the  bud,"  Miss  Reynolds  observed  to 
herself  on  the  way  upstairs,  where,  in  the  main  hall 


32  KATHERINE'S 

and  parlors,  the  students  usually  spent  an  hour,  socially, 
after  the  evening  meal.  But  as  she  presented  her 
charge,  here  and  there,  she  only  became  more  indig- 
nant in  view  of  frigid  salutations  and  a  general  stam- 
pede wherever  they  made  their  appearance,  not  to  men- 
tion the  scarlet  spots  that  settled  on  Katherine's  cheeks 
and  her  unnaturally  brilliant  eyes,  although,  in  other 
respects,  she  appeared  perfectly  serene  and  self-pos- 
sessed. 

"Please  do  not  trouble  yourself  any  further  on  my 
account,  Miss  Reynolds,"  she  said,  when  she  observed 
the  look  of  dismay  on  her  face  as  she  glanced  around 
the  almost  empty  room  they  were  in.  "I  understand 
the  situation  perfectly ;  they  have  all  learned  that  I  am 
a  Christian  Scientist,  and,  having  conceived  an  erro- 
neous idea  of  what  that  means,  are  avoiding  me." 

"It  is  the  most  absurd,  cruel  and  unjust  treatment 
of  a  stranger  I  ever  heard  of,"  returned  her  companion, 
with  flashing  eyes,  "and  I  shall  make  it  my  business  to 
see  that  there  is  a  radical  change  before  another  day 
goes  by." 

"Please  do  not,"  Katherine  pleaded,  earnestly.  "I 
would  much  prefer  that  matters  be  left  to  adjust  them- 
selves; any  interference  would  only  serve  to  intensify 
the  antagonism  against  me ;  and  I  am  sure  when  the 
girls  come  to  know  me  better,  they  will  at  least  realize 
that  I  am — harmless,"  and  there  was  a  gleam  of  gen- 
uine amusement  in  her  eyes  as  she  concluded. 

"You  are  a  brave  little  girl,"  said  her  teacher,  with 
a  glow  of  tenderness  at  her  heart  and  a  suspicious 
moisture  in  her  eyes.  "But" — with  a  resolute  straight- 
ening of  her  graceful  figure — "I  am  not  going  to  have 


SHEAVES  33 

you  left  to  yourself  on  this  vour  first  evening  at  Hil- 
ton, so  come  with  me  to  mmffoom  and  we  will  have  a 
nice  time  by  ourselves." 

"Oh,  I  should  like  that,"  said  Katherine,  eagerly, 
"if  it  will  not  encroach " 

"It  will  not,"  smilingly  interposed  her  new  friend, 
and,  slipping  an  arm  around  her,  she  spirited  her  away 
to  her  pleasant  room,  where  they  spent  a  delightful 
hour  together. 

When  the  eight  o'clock  study  bell  rang,  Katherine 
returned  to  her  own  quarters,  where  she  found  her 
roommate  already  absorbed,  apparently,  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  to-morrow's  lessons;  for,  as  she  entered,  the 
girl  merely  glanced  up  from  her  book  without  speak- 
ing, then  fastened  her  eyes  again  upon  the  pages  before 
her. 

Katherine  sat  down  by  her  own  table  and  soon  for- 
got everything  but  the  work  on  hand,  although,  at 
first,  she  had  experienced  a  sense  of  discord  and  fric- 
tion in  the  atmosphere.  The  hour  passed  in  absolute 
silence  until  the  next  bell  rang,  when  Miss  Minot 
closed  her  books  and  abruptly  left  the  room. 

Katherine  was  not  sorry  to  be  left  alone,  and  bring- 
ing forth  from  her  trunk  her  Bible,  "Science  and 
Health,"  and  "Quarterly,"  began  to  study  her  lesson 
for  the  coming  Sunday.  She  spent  half  an  hour  or 
more  in  this  way,  then  sat  reading  from  her  text-book 
until  Sadie  returned. 

Katherine  greeted  her  with  a  smile  as  she  entered, 
and  inquired : 

"What  is  the  retiring  hour,  Miss  Minot?" 


34  KATHERINE'S 

"Ten;  and  every  light  must  be  out  at  half-past,"  was 
the  somewhat  curt  response. 

Then,  after  an  irresolute  pause,  she  walked  over  to 
Katherine,  and  picking  up  the  book  she  had  just  laid 
down,  asked : 

"What  is  this  that  you  were  reading?  Oh !  it  is  that 
dreadful  book  I've  heard  so  much  about." 

"It  doesn't  seem  dreadful  to  me,"  returned  her  com- 
panion, gently. 

"Humph  !  'At  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances 
overcome  evil  with  good,'  "*  she  read  from  the  page  to 
which  she  had  opened.  "That's  just  another  version 
of  the  'golden  rule/  isn't  it?"  Then,  turning  a  leaf, 
she  read  from  the  next  page :  "  'Love  fulfills  the  law  in 
Christian  Science.'  Humph !"  she  ejaculated  again,  as 
she  put  the  volume  down,  "so  you  are  a  Christian  Sci- 
entist! I  heard  about  it  downstairs." 

"Yes,"  quietly  returned  Katherine. 

"And  do  you  really  believe  all  they  tell  about  the 
wonderful  cures  and — and  the  rest  of  it?"  Sadie  de- 
manded, with  curling  lips. 

"Yes." 

"Tell  me  about  some  of  them,"  said  the  girl,  eagerly, 
her  curiosity  aroused. 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Minot ;  I  cannot,  for  Prof.  Sea- 
brook  has  forbidden  me  to  say  anything  about  the  sub- 
ject here,"  Katherine  returned. 

"Yes,  I  heard  that,  too,"  said  Sadie,  with  a  nod. 
"Well,  the  professor  is  dead  set  against  it,  and  I'm 
down  on  it  right  smart  myself.  You  see" — with  a  su- 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  571. 


SHEAVES  35 

perior  air — "I'm  an  Episcopalian;  my  grandfather  was 
an  Episcopalian  clergyman,  a  rector,  you  know,  and" 
— with  a  shrug  and  laugh — "I'm  afraid  he  wouldn't 
rest  easy  in  his  grave  if  he  knew  I  had  such  a  rank 
heretic  for  a  roommate.  But" — leaning  forward  and 
smiling  into  her  companion's  eyes — "aside  from  that 
I  like  you  right  well,  Miss  Minturn,  and  if  we  leave 
this  subject  alone  I  reckon  we'll  get  along  pretty  com- 
fortably together ;  what  do  you  say  ?" 

"I  am  sure  we  will,"  cordially  assented  Katherine, 
"and" — with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eyes — "if  you  do 
not  broach  it,  you  may  confidently  rely  upon  my  dis- 
cretion." 

"I  own  up,"  good-naturedly  returned  her  chum.  "I 
did  broach  it  this  time ;  but" — flushing  slightly — "some- 
thing had  to  be  said  to  get  it  out  of  the  way,  don't 
you  know?  And  may  I — would  you  like  me  to  call 
you  Katherine?" 

"With  all  my  heart,  Sadie." 

The  two  girls  smiled  into  each  other's  eyes  ;•  the  last 
vestige  of  formality  was  swept  away,  and  the  atmos- 
phere was  clear. 


36  KATHERINE'S 

CHAPTER  III. 

Dorothy. 

The  midwinter  term  at  Hilton  Seminary  had  opened 
on  Wednesday,  and  the  remainder  of  the  week  passed 
quickly  and  uneventfully  as  Katherine  fell  easily  into 
the  ways  of  the  institution  and  found  herself  getting 
well  started  in  her  various  studies. 

Her  relations  with  her  roommate  were  most  har- 
monious, but  the  majority  of  the  students  either  ig- 
nored her  altogether  or  treated  her  with  a  coldness 
that,  had  she  not  had  her  "Science"  to  sustain  and 
comfort  her,  would  have  made  her  lot  hard  indeed  to 
bear. 

She  had  not  met  the  professor  again,  except  in  the 
class  room,  where  he  had  seemed  to  be  wholly  absorbed 
in  his  duties  as  instructor  and  oblivious  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  students. 

On  Saturday  afternoon  she  was  introduced  to  Mrs. 
Seabrook  while  strolling  in  the  grounds  with  Miss 
Reynolds,  between  whom  and  herself  a  growing  friend- 
liness was  asserting  itself.  The  professor's  wife  was 
walking  beside  a  wheel-chair,  which  was  being  pro- 
pelled by  a  nurse  in  cap  and  apron,  and  in  which  was 
seated — propped  up  by  pillows — a  young  girl  who  ap- 
peared to  be  about  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  al- 
though her  serious,  pain-lined  face  and  thoughtful 
eyes  seemed,  by  right,  to  belong  to  an  older  person. 


SHEAVES  37 

Miss  Reynolds  paused  on  meeting  this  trio  and  in- 
troduced Katherine  to  Mrs.  Seabrook,  who  greeted  her 
with  a  sweet  cordiality  that  at  once  won  the  girl's 
heart. 

"I  heard  that  we  had  a  new  student  among  us,"  she 
said,  as  she  warmly  clasped  Katherine's  hand,  "and  I 
hope  you  are  going  to  be  very  happy  with  us,  Miss 
Minturn." 

"Thank  you ;  not  'going  to  be' — I  already  am  happy 
here,"  she  cheerily  and  truthfully  replied,  for  she  had 
become  deeply  interested  in  her  work,  and,  as  she  dearly 
loved  to  study,  she  was  content  to  leave  her  social  re- 
lations to  be  governed  by  the  love  she  was  "trying  to 
live." 

"This  is  my  daughter,"  Mrs.  Seabrook  continued,  as 
she  turned  a  fond  look  upon  the  pale,  pinched  face 
among  the  pillows.  "Dorothy,  this  is  the  young  lady 
whom  you  have  been  wishing  to  see." 

Katherine  bent  down,  took  the  small  mittened  hand 
that  was  extended  to  her  and  smiled  into  the  grave, 
searching  eyes  that  were  earnestly  studying  her  face. 

"And  I  also  have  been  wishing  to  see  Dorothy,"  she 
said,  with  a  note  of  tenderness  in  her  tone  that  caused 
the  slender  fingers  inside  the  mitten  to  close  more 
firmly  over  her  own.  "I  am  very  fond  of  little  people." 

"I  should  not  be  so  'little'  if  I  were  well,"  Dorothy 
returned,  with  a  faint  sigh.  Then,  glancing  up  at  her 
attendant,  she  added :  "This  is  my  nurse,  Alice,  and 
she  has  to  wheel  me  about  because  I  cannot  walk." 

Katherine  bestowed  a  friendly  look  and  nod  upon 
Alice;  then  a  great  wave  of  compassion  for  the  little 
cripple  swept  over  her  heart  and  softened  her  earnest 


38  KATHERINE'S 

brown  eyes  as  she  turned  back  to  her  and  remarked, 
in  a  cheery  tone : 

"You  have  a  lovely  chair.  These  rubber  tires  must 
cause  it  to  roll  very  smoothly  and  make  it  easy  for 
Alice  to  wheel  you  about." 

.  "Yes,  I  like  my  chair  very  much — my  Uncle  Phillip 
brought  it  to  me  from  Germany — and  Alice  is  very 
nice  about  taking  me  everywhere  I  want  to  go ;  but  it 
would  be  so  much  nicer  if  I  could  walk  and  run  about 
like  other  girls,"  and  Dorothy's  yearning  tone  smote 
painfully  upon  every  listening  ear. 

"It  certainly  would,  dear,"  Katherine  returned,  giv- 
ing the  small  hand  that  still  clung  to  hers  a  loving  pres- 
sure, adding,  softly :  "And  sometime  you  will,  I  hope." 

The  child's  face  glowed  at  the  term  of  endearment ; 
but  her  pale  lips  quivered  slightly  at  the  hopeful  as- 
surance. 

"Oh !  no,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head  slowly ;  "I 
have  a  double  curvature  of  the  spine,  and  all  the  doc- 
tors say  I  never  can.  I — I — think  I  could  bear  that — 
not  being  able  to  walk — but  the  dreadful  pain  some- 
times makes  me  wish  I  wasn't  here  at  all." 

Katherine  did  not  make  any  reply  to  this  pathetic 
information.  For  a  moment  or  two  she  seemed  to  be 
oblivious  to  everything,  even  to  the  presence  of  her 
companions,  and  stood  looking  off  towards  the  western 
sky,  as  if  communing  with  some  unseen  presence  there. 

Then,  suddenly  arousing  herself,  she  detached  a 
beautiful  pink  rosebud  from  the  lapel  of  her  jacket, 
saying,  brightly :  "Do  you  love  flowers,  Dorothy  ? 
will  you  let  me  fasten  this  on  your  coat?  It  is  fresh 
from  the  greenhouse  and  will  last  some  time  yet. 


SHEAVES  39 

There — see !"  as  she  deftly  pinned  it  in  place.  "What 
a  pretty  contrast  it  makes  against  the  dark-blue  cloth." 

"It  is  lovely,"  said  the  girl,  bending  forward  to  in- 
hale its  perfume.  "How  perfect  it  is !  Do  you  ever 
wonder,  Miss  Minturn,  why  God  makes  the  flowers  and 
things  that  grow  so  perfect  and  beautiful,  and  people — 
so  many  of  them — imperfect  and  ugly?" 

"My  dear,"  Mrs.  Seabrook  here  smilingly  inter- 
posed, though  a  quickly  repressed  sigh  arose  to  her 
lips,  "I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  involve  Miss  Min- 
turn in  a  metaphysical  discussion  during  this  first 
meeting !  Dorothy  has  acquired  a  habit  of  philoso- 
phizing and  asking  profound  questions  that  are  not  al- 
ways easily  answered,"  she  explained  to  Katherine. 

"Surely,  dear,  you  do  not  think  that  God  ever  made 
anyone,  or  anything,  imperfect  or  ugly?"  Katherine 
gently  inquired. 

The  child  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  pondering  the 
question. 

"Well,"  she  presently  asserted,  with  a  positive  in- 
tonation and  nod  of  her  head,  "there  are  a  lot  of  de- 
formed, sick  and  ugly  people  in  the  world,  and  the 
Bible  tells  us  that  He  made  everything." 

"The  Bible  tells  us,  in  Genesis,  that  'everything  that' 
God  made  was  good';  and,  in  Psalms,  that  'all  His 
ways  are  perfect,'  "  quoted  Katherine. 

"Yes,  I  know  it;  that  was  in  the  beginning,  though," 
said  Dorothy ;  "but  if  He  could  make  things  perfect  in 
the  first  place  I  don't  see  why  He  didn't  keep  them  so 
if  He  is  God." 

"Come,  come,  dearie ;  I  think  we  must  go  on  now — 
we  are  keeping  Miss  Reynolds  and  Miss  Minturn  from 


40  KATHERINE'S 

their  walk,"  Mrs.  Seabrook  again  interposed,  with  a 
note  of  gentle  reproof  in  her  tone,  as  she  stooped  to 
tuck  the  robe  more  closely  around  the  girl.  "^fi. 

A  sunny  smile,  like  a  burst  of  sunshine  from  under 
a  cloud,  suddenly  broke  over  Dorothy's  face,  at  once 
dispelling  its  unnatural  gravity  and  perplexity. 

"I  didn't  think  how  naughty  that  was  going  to 
sound,  mamma  dear,"  she  said,  as,  with  a  deprecating 
air,  she  softly  patted  her  mother's  hand.  "I'm  afraid 
Miss  Minturn  will  think  I  am  not  very  good;  but, 
truly,  things  do  seem  awfully  mixed  up  sometimes 
when  I  get  to  thinking  this  way.  I  like  you  very, 
very  much,  though,"  she  added,  nodding  brightly  at 
her  new  acquaintance.  "I  wish  you  would  come  to  see 
me  in  mamma's  apartments  when  you  are  not  too 
busy." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to — if  I  may,"  Katherine  re- 
plied, with  an  inquiring  glance  at  Mrs.  Seabrook. 

"Yes,  do  come,  Miss  Minturn,  whenever  you  can 
find  time;  we  are  very  glad  to  have  the  young  ladies 
visit  Dorothy,  who  has  many  lonely  hours.  Now 
come,  Alice,"  and,  with  a  parting  smile  and  bow,  she 
signaled  the  nurse  to  move  on. 

"Good-by,  Miss  Minturn,  and  thanK  you  for  my 
lovely  rose,"  cried  the  child,  looking  back  over  her 
shoulder  and  waving  her  small  hand  in  farewell. 

"Poor  child,"  sighed  Miss  Reynolds,  as  she  and 
Katherine  passed  out  of  the  grounds  to  the  highway, 
"she  has  a  continual  struggle  to  live,  yet  she  is  a  re- 
markable girl,  in  spite  of  her  many  infirmities,  with  a 
mind  bright  and  keen  far  beyond  her  years." 

"How  old  is  she?" 


SHEAVES  41 

"Thirteen,  a  month  or  two  ago." 

"Is  it  possible?  She  does  not  look  to  be  over  seven 
or  eight,  although,  mentally,  she  seems  more  mature." 

"That  is  true.  She  had  a  bad  fall  when  she  was  six 
years  old,  and  her  body  has  never  grown  any  since  the 
accident,"  Miss  Reynolds  explained.  "She  suffers  a 
great  deal — sometimes  the  pain  is  almost  unbearable ; 
but,  as  a  rule,  she  is  very  lovable  and  patient,  though, 
now  and  then,  a  remark  like  what  she  made  to  you  just 
now,  shows  that  she  thinks  deeply  and  is  perplexed — 
like  some  children  of  larger  growth — over  the  knotty 
problems  of  life,"  she  concluded,  with  a  sigh. 

"How  is  it,  Miss  Minturn,"  she  went  on,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  silence,  "how  do  you  Scientists  account  for 
the  fact  that  a  perfect  and  all-merciful  Qod — 'the 
Father  of  mercies,  the  God  of  all  comfort,'  as  Paul  puts 
it — has  created  a  world  of  such  confusion,  wherein 
evil  and  suffering,  instead  of  peace  and  harmony,  are 
the  predominant  elements? — where,  for  ages,  sickness 
and  death  have  relentlessly  mown  down  generation  af- 
ter generation,  until  one  becomes  heart-sick  and  weary, 
and  even  filled  with  despair,  at  times,  in  view  of  their 
probable  continuance  for  ages  to  come?" 

The  woman's  face  was  flushed,  her  eyes  somber,  and 
there  was  a  note  of  passionate  protest  in  her  voice 
which  moved  Katherine  deeply ;  while  what  she  had 
said  proved  to  her  that  these  problems  had  been  pon- 
dered o'er  and  o'er  until  her  mind  was  almost  in  a 
state  of  chaos  regarding  them. 

While  she  was  debating  with  herself  what  reply  she 
could  make  that  would  best  meet  her  thought,  her  com- 
panion resumed: 


42  KATHERINE'S 

"I  am  a  dear  lover  of  children,  but  when  I  see  any- 
one like  Dorothy ;  when  I  see  mothers  grieving  for 
their  darlings,  whom  God  gave  them  for  a  little 
while,  then  ruthlessly  snatched  from  their  embrace  for 
no  apparent  reason,  I  feel  sure  that  something  is  very 
wrong ;  and,  of  late  years,  my  heart  is  filled  with  in- 
dignant protest  whenever  I  hear  of  the  birth  of  a  dear 
little  innocent.  'Oh !'  I  cry  within  myself,  'it  is  born 
only  to  repeat  the  struggle  with  sin,  suffering  and 
death.'  Of  what  use  is  its  life?  of  what  use  the  advent 
of  future  generations  if  there  is  no  way  to  rise  above, 
or  conquer,  such  adverse  conditions  ?  Is  God  good — 
if  there  is  a  God — to  create  only  to  destroy?  to  ar- 
bitrarily force  these  little  innocents  into  the  world  to 
fight  the  unequal  battle  with  evil  ?  Millions  have  faced 
it  bravely — nobly,  trusting  God's  promises,  but  they 
have  never  succceeded  in  removing  one  iota  of  the 
curse,  'Thou  shalt  surely  die.'  The  whole  problem 
of  life  is  a  mystery  which  I  am  tired  of  trying  to  solve," 
and  Katherine  was  sure  the  woman  stifled  a  sob  as  she 
concluded. 

"Surely,  dear  Miss  Reynolds,  you  do  not  doubt  the 
existence  of  God?"  she  gently  inquired. 

"No,  child ;  don't  think  me  quite  an  atheist,"  said 
her  teacher,  with  a  deprecatory  smile  and  gesture. 
"Life,  nature,  the  universe,  with  their  teeming  and 
ever-unfolding  wonders  tell  me  that  there  is  a  Force — 
a  controlling  power  and  intelligence  behind  them.  We 
call  that  force  'God.'  We  say  that  God  is  omnipotent, 
all  wise  and  good;  and  certainly,  in  the  government 
of  the  universe,  everything  points  that  way,  everything 
is  exact  and  perfect.  But  how  to  reconcile  God  as 


SHEAVES  43 

good,  merciful,  loving,  with  the  creation  and  mani- 
festation of  evil  as  we  find  it  on  this  planet  ?  Ah !  that 
is  beyond  me." 

"Can  evil  come  out  of  good?"  briefly  queried  Kath- 
erine. 

Miss  Reynolds  started  slightly. 

"No,"  she  returned,  positively ;  "no  more  than  a  lie 
can  spring  out  of  truth ;  those  are  self-evident  facts." 

"Then  dare  we  say  that  God — which  is  but  another 
term  for  good,  Supreme  Good — created  evil?" 

"Oh,  do  you  believe  in  the  serpent  or  devil  ?  I  know 
he  comes  forward  from  some  mysterious  source  in  the 
narrative  and  is  held  responsible.  Then  naturally  fol- 
lows the  question,  'Who  created  his  satanic  majesty?' 
Well,  who  did?  If  God  created  everything,  and  evil 
cannot  come  out  of  good,  where  did  evil  come  from? 
What  a  paradox  it  seems !"  she  went  on,  without  wait- 
ing for  a  reply.  "Yet  evil  does  exist  in  the  world — 
look  at  Dorothy !  Think  of  the  sin,  misery  and  crime 
all  about  us  !  Where  did  they  come  from  ?  There  are 
some  who  contend  that  God  did  not  create  evil,  but 
permits  it  for  some  wise  purpose ;  but  that,  to  me,  seems 
like  a  weak  attempt  to  clear  the  Almighty  from  the 
terrible  responsibility  of  having  made  sin  and  its  deadly 
results  without  detracting  from  His  omnipotence." 

"If  a  person  tells  you  a  lie,  where  does  it  come 
from  ?"  Katherine  quietly  inquired. 

"From  his  own  evil  desire  to  deceive,  of  course." 

"Exactly ;  it  was  an  invention  of  his  own  evil 
thought,  prompted  by  some  selfish  motive.  You  can 
say  the  same  of  theft,  murder — in  fact  of  all  crime. 


44  KATHERINE'S 

But  God — Good — is  not  the  author  of  the  lie,  or  crime, 
neither  does  He  'permit  them  for  some  wise  purpose,' 
as  you  have  quoted,  any  more  than  a  just  and  loving 
human  father  would  teach,  or  permit,  his  son  to  be- 
come a  criminal,  claiming  that  he  needed  such  dis- 
cipline to  fit  him  for  future  happiness ;  or,  any  more 
than  you,  a  teacher,  would  put  demoralizing  literature 
into  the  hands  of  a  student  as  a  method  of  discipline 
for  higher  education." 

"How  perfectly  absurd  that  sounds!  And  yet  it  is 
parallel  to  the  doctrine  that  has  been  taught  for  ages," 
said  Miss  Reynolds,  thoughtfully.  "But  I  do  not  see 
how  you  can  apply  the  same  logic  to  disease  and  suf- 
fering." 

"The  Scriptures  tell  us  that  'sin  brought  death.' 
Sickness  and  disease  are  the  seeds  of  death ;  then  they 
are  the  results  of  sin — evil.  God  not  being  the  author 
of  sin  and  disease,  they,  like  the  lie,  can  only  originate 
in  the  evil  thought  or  mind  of  the  sinner,"  Katherine 
explained. 

"Then  you  believe  that  we  mortals  are  alone  respon- 
sible for  all  the  suffering  and  evil  there  is  in  the 
world  ?" 

"Yes ;  evil  is  a  mortal  concept." 

"Then  how  does  God What  is  God,  from  your 

standpoint,  Kath — may  I  call  you  Katherine?"  and 
Miss  Reynolds  laid  a  caressing  hand  upon  the  girl's 
arm  as  she  made  this  request. 

"Do — I  should  so  like  to  have  you,"  she  replied, 
turning  to  her  with  a  luminous  smile.  "Now  for  your 
question.  God  is  Spirit,  and  'What  the  Scriptures 


SHEAVES  45 

declare  Him  to  be— Life,  Truth  and  Love,'  "*  she 
added,  quoting  from  her  text-book. 

"You  say  Spirit,  instead  of  'a  spirit.'  Now  what  is 
this  Spirit?" 

"Infinite  Mind,  Intelligence,  Omnipotent  Good." 

"Ah !"  Miss  Reynolds  began,  then  paused  abruptly. 
"But  intelligence,  life,  truth,  love  are  characteristics, 
attributes  which  anyone  may  possess  and  cultivate." 

"Yes,  considered  in  that  sense  they  are  attributes. 
But  whence  came  they?"  Katherine  demanded,  with 
glowing  eyes.  "The  source  of  life  must  be  Life  itself, 
must  it  not  ?  The  same  must  also  be  true  of  truth  and 
love.  So  Life,  Truth,  Love,  Mind,  Intelligence  con- 
stitute, in  Science,  the  Divine  Principle,  or  God,  the 
controlling  and  governing  power  of  the  universe  and 
man." 

"Divine  Principle  !  Mind  !  Intelligence  !  Life !  Truth ! 
Love !  God !"  repeated  Miss  Reynolds,  and  dwelling 
thoughtfully  upon  each  word.  Then,  turning  a  won- 
dering look  upon  her  companion,  she  exclaimed,  almost 
breathlessly : 

"Why,  Katherine,  if  that  is  true  I  can  understand 
how  God  can  be  omnipresent !  That  is  a  doctrine  of 
my  church,  that  has  been  a  tantalizing  mystery  to  me 
all  my  life.  My  dear  girl,"  she  went  on  in  an  eager 
tone,  "I  begin  to  see  a  ray  of  light — I  must  think  more 
about  it,  though.  I  have  always  thought  of  Deity  as  a 
'personal  God,'  and,  yes" — smiling — "I  used  to  believe 
in  a  personal  devil,  too ;  with  a  very  vague  conception 
that  although  the  latter  had  always  managed  to  keep 


""'Science  and  Health,"  page  330. 


46  KATHERINE'S 

the  preponderance  of  power  in  his  hands,  God  would, 
in  some  miraculous  manner,  win  the  battle  in  the  end. 
But,  even  now" — with  a  look  of  perplexity — "I  do  not 
grasp  where  or  how,  according  to  your  logic,  God 
comes  in  as  supreme,  infinite,  so  long  as  evil  exists." 

"Let  us  go  back  to  the  lie  for  an  illustration,"  said 
Katherine.  "You  said  that  it  originated  in  the  per- 
son's own  evil  thought  and  desire  to  deceive.  Well, 
what  happens  when  you  turn  the  light  of  truth  upon 
a  lie?" 

"Why,  it  disappears — vanishes;  you  learn  the  fact 
and  are  no  longer  affected  by,  or  conscious  of,  the 
falsehood." 

"Then  truth  has  destroyed,  annihilated  it;  it  has 
become  nothing  to  you.  As  long  as  you  believe  a  lie 
you  are  its  victim  and  suffer  from  it;  but  once  learn 
the  truth  you  are  free  from  that  illusion  and  its  power 
over  you  is  gone.  Now,  you  would  not  say  that  truth 
created  the  lie,  permitted  it,  or  was  in  any  way  re- 
sponsible for  it,  or  your  suffering  on  account  of  it?" 

"N-o;  so  God,  being  good — infinite  good — knows 
nothing  of  evil  in  any  form.  Is  that  your  point,  Kath- 
erine?" 

"Yes ;  so  it  follows  He  could  neither  create  nor  per- 
mit what  He  knows  nothing  about." 

"Why !"  exclaimed  Miss  Reynolds,  turning  a  glowing 
face  to  the  girl,  "those  same  arguments  must  hold  good 
for  everything!  Then  sickness  and  suffering  must  be 
the  outcome  of  wrong  thought  on  the  part  of  mortals ! 
What  unlimited  possibilities  that  suggests!  Divine 
Principle !  I  begin  to  understand  why  you  call  your- 
selves 'Scientists' — you  think  and  live  in  accord  with 


SHEAVES  47 

this  infinite,  absolute  Principle — you  demonstrate  it,  as 
— as  I  demonstrate  mathematics." 

"Yes,"  said  Katherine,  smiling;  "so  you  see  that 
Christian  Science  is,  as  some  one  has  aptly  said,  'the 
Science  of  sciences.'  " 

"That  is  a  very  sweeping  assertion,"  responded  her 
teacher  in  a  somewhat  doubtful  tone.  "I'll  have  to  ru- 
minate on  that.  However,  this  little  glimpse  of  a  bet- 
ter way  than  I  have  hitherto  known,  seems  like  an  olive 
leaf  of  hope  and  promise  to  me,  for  I  have  been  toss- 
ing on  a  restless  sea  of  doubt  and  skepticism  for  years, 
reaching  out  and  groping  after  some  substantial  plank 
that  would  float  me  into  a  haven  of  peace  and  rest. 
But  how  is  it  that  you,  so  young,  argue  so  clearly  and 
logically  about  these  things  that  have  puzzled  older 
and  wiser  heads  for  ages?" 

"I  have  never  known  anything  else,"  said  Katherine, 
simply.  "When  I  was  a  very  little  child  my  mother 
was  healed  of  a  disease  which  several  physicians  had 
pronounced  incurable.  She  at  once  became  an  earnest 
student  of  Christian  Science,  and,  later,  a  successful 
practitioner;  consequently  its  principles,  as  far  as  I 
have  gone,  are  as  clear  to  me  as  those  that  govern  your 
own  dear  mathematics  are  to  you.  But" — a  blank  look 
suddenly  sweeping  over  her  face — "I  am  afraid  I  have 
been  guilty  of  rank  disobedience  in  discussing  these 
problems  with  you." 

"How  so?''  asked  her  teacher,  in  surprise. 

"Prof.  Seabrook  has  strictly  forbidden  me  to  talk  of 
Christian  Science  while  I  am  a  student  at  Hilton." 

"Of  course,  he  meant  that  you  must  not  talk  it  to 
the  other  students,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  "and  it  would 


48  KATHERINE'S 

be  unwise,  for,  doubtless,  the  parents  of  many,  if  not 
of  all,  would  object.  But  I,  as  your  teacher,  feel  at  lib- 
erty to  ask  you  whatever  questions  I  choose,  and  you 
are  perfectly  justified  in  answering  them." 

"Ye-s,  I  believe  you  are  right  on  that  point,"  Kath- 
erine  thoughtfully  returned.  "But  I  would  not  will- 
fully disobey  the  professor  in  any  way.  I  owe  him 
perfect  loyalty  as  long  as  I  am  a  pupil  in  his  school, 
and  I  mean  to  yield  it  to  him." 

"That  is  right,"  her  companion  affirmed;  "but  you 
do  not  need  to  condemn  yourself  for  what  has  occurred 
this  afternoon,  for,  at  my  age,  I  am  capable  of  judging 
for  myself  upon  all  moral  and  religious  questions,  and 
I  think  you  may  feel  at  liberty  to  give  me  any  informa- 
tion that  I  may  seek  from  you.  I  have  not  done  with 
you,  either,"  she  added,  with  a  significant  smile,  "for 
you  have  given  me  to-day  a  glimpse  of  something 
which  I  believe  will  change  the  universe  for  me.  Ah ! 
whom  have  we  here?" 

She  checked  herself  suddenly  as  a  gentleman  came 
into  view  around  a  curve  in  the  road,  a  short  distance 
ahead  of  them. 


SHEAVES  49 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Phillip  Harris  Stanley,  M.D. 

Katherine  glanced  up  as  her  companion  called  her 
attention  to  the  approaching  figure,  and  saw  a  finely 
formed  man,  tall,  straight  and  stalwart,  and,  appar- 
ently, about  thirty-five  years  of  age.  He  possessed 
an  attractive,  though  thoughtful,  face,  and  bore  himself 
with  an  air  of  refinement  and  self-possession  that  at 
once  proclaimed  him  the  cultured  gentleman. 

A  delicate  pink  instantly  suffused  the  girl's  face,  and 
there  was  a  peculiar  thrill  in  her  voice  as  she  exclaimed, 
in  great  surprise : 

"Why !  that  is  Dr.  Stanley !  Mamma  and  I  became 
acquainted  with  him  on  board  the  Irernia  when  we  re- 
turned from  abroad,  two  months  ago." 

"So  you  already  know  Phillip  Harris  Stanley !"  Miss 
Reynolds  observed,  and  surprised  in  turn.  "He  is 
Mrs.  Seabrook's  brother — the  'Uncle  Phillip'  of  whom 
Dorothy  spoke.  He  has  been  in  Germany  during  the 
last  two  years,  studying  in  various  hospitals,  but  has 
now  again  opened  his  office  in  this  city.  Dorothy  is 
under  his  care,  and  he  is  therefore  a  frequent  visitor 
at  the  seminary." 

By  this  time  the  gentleman  had  come  within  speaking 
distance  of  the  ladies,  whom  he  instantly  recognized, 


50  KATHERINE'S 

his  fine  eyes  lighting  with  pleasure  as  they  fell  upon 
Katherine.  He  courteously  lifted  his  hat. 

"Good-afternoon,  Miss  Reynolds,"  he  said,  with  a 
genial  smile,  as  he  extended  his  hand  in  greeting. 
"And,  Miss  Minturn,  this  is  certainly  an  unexpected 
pleasure !  I  suppose,  however,"  he  continued,  with  a 
mirthful  quiver  of  his  lips,  "it  would  not  be  at  all 
proper  to  ask  if  you  are  well,  even  if  your  blooming 
appearance  did  not  speak  for  you  and  preclude  the  ne- 
cessity of  such  an  inquiry.  But  to  what  happy  cir- 
cumstance do  we  owe  the  pleasure  of  your  advent 
here?" 

"I  am  a  student  at  Hilton  Seminary,"  Katherine  re- 
plied, as  she  frankly  gave  him  her  hand,  her  color 
deepening  as  she  did  so.  "I  played  truant  from  school 
for  several  months,  as  you  know,  and  am  now  trying 
to  bridge  the  chasm." 

"And  your  delightful  mother,  Miss  Minturn?  I 

trust  she  is  also  we Ah !  excuse  me — enjoying 

life?" 

"Ah !  Dr.  Stanley,  I  see  you  have  not  forgotten  how 
to  exercise  your  propensity  for  teasing,"  Katherine  re- 
torted, with  a  light  laugh.  "My  mother  is  both  well 
and  happy,  thank  you,  and  will  be  pleased  to  know 
that  I  have  met  you  again." 

The  physician  bowed  his  acknowledgment  as  he  re- 
marked : 

"Pray  give  my  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Minturn  when 
you  make  up  your  next  budget  of  news  for  her.  As 
for  my  propensity  to  tease" — with  a  roguish  smile — • 
"I  had  no  resource  except  to  exercise  it  upon  the 
daughter.  Since  the  mother  would  not  be  teased  and 


SHEAVES  51 

could  never  be  defeated  in  an  argument,  I  had  to  re- 
taliate in  some  way.  But  what  class  have  you  entered, 
Miss  Minturn?" 

"I  am  a  junior,  Dr.  Stanley." 

"Ah !  then  we  shall  keep  you  at  Hilton  for  some 
time,"  and  there  was  a  ring  of  satisfaction  in  the  gentle- 
man's tones  which  did  not  escape  the  ear  of  the  ob- 
servant teacher.  "Are  you  aware,  Miss  Reynolds," 
he  said,  turning  to  her  and  resuming  his  bantering 
tone,  "what  a  revolutionary  spirit  our  institution  has 
taken  to  her  bosom  in  admitting  Miss  Minturn  ?" 

"We  have  found  her  a  very  peaceable  individual 
thus  far;  she  certainly  does  not  have  the  appearance 
of  being  a  discordant  element,"  the  lady  returned,  as 
she  bestowed  an  affectionate  glance  upon  her  com- 
panion. 

But  the  girl's  face  had  grown  suddenly  grave,  and 
she  now  lifted  a  pair  of  very  serious  eyes  to  the  physi- 
cian. 

"Yes,  Dr.  Stanley,"  she  observed,  "Miss  Reynolds 
knows  that  I  am  a  Christian  Scientist ;  but  Prof.  Sea- 
brook  has  forbidden  me  to  make  my  religious  views 
prominent  in  the  school." 

"I  understand.  Yes,  I  know  that  my  brother-in- 
law  is  not  at  all  in  sympathy  with  the  movement,"  said 
Phillip  Stanley;  and  at  once  dropping  his  banter,  he 
added,  apologetically :  "I  fear  that  I  was  thought- 
less in  referring  to  the  subject  in  the  way  I  did,  and  I 
will  not  annoy  you  again  by  alluding  to  it  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  third  party." 

"I  am  not  'annoyed/  I  assure  you,"  Katherine  re- 
plied, flushing  again  under  his  regretful  glance.  "Miss 


52  KATHERINE'S 

Reynolds,  being  a  teacher,  does  not  come  under  the 
ban ;  but  I  desire  to  respect  Prof.  Seabrook's  wishes 
under  all  circumstances." 

"All  honor  to  so  loyal  a  student,  and  I  will  hence- 
forth govern  myself  accordingly,"  smilingly  returned 
the  gentleman,  as  he  again  doffed  his  hat  to  her.  "But 
I  must  move  on.  I  have  to  make  my  visit  to  Dorothy 
and  get  back  to  the  city  for  another  appointment  within 
an  hour.  I  am  very  glad  to  have  met  you,  ladies," 
and,  with  a  parting  bow,  the  handsome  doctor  went  his 
way,  leaving  Katherine  and  her  teacher  to  continue 
their  ramble. 

"How  strange  that  you  should  know  Dr.  Stanley!" 
Miss  Reynolds  observed.  "He  is  the  youngest  mem- 
ber of  Mrs.  Seabrook's  family,  and  a  fine  fellow — a 
very  talented  man,  in  fact.  He  had  begun  to  distin- 
guish himself  in  his  profession  before  he  went  abroad, 
and  now,  even  though  he  has  been  home  only  a  couple 
of  months,  he  has  an  extensive  practice.  But  I  suppose 
this  does  not  interest  you,  as  you  have  no  use  for 
doctors,"  she  concluded,  archly. 

"Indeed,  it  does  interest  me,"  said  Katherine,  ear- 
nestly, "and  I  hope  you  do  not  think  that  Scientists 
hold  physicians  in  contempt.  We  all  know  that  there 
are  many  noble  men  among  them,  who  are  devoted  to 
their  profession  and  are  most  conscientious  in  the 
practice  of  medicine." 

"But  I  suppose  you  would  not  employ  one  under 
any  circumstances?" 

"No;  I  could  not." 

"You  have  such    faith    in    your    mother's    healing 


SHEAVES  53 

power,  you  would  trust  her  before  the  most  noted  prac- 
titioner of  materia  medico  ?" 

"I  have  such  faith  in  God's  healing  power  that  I 
would  trust  Him,  and  Him  only,"  Katherine  corrected, 
gently. 

"Do  you  never  take  medicine  of  any  kind?" 

"No;  I  have  never  used  a  drop  or  a  grain — nor  ma- 
terial remedies  of  any  description — since  I  was  three 
years  of  age." 

"Perhaps  you  have  never  been  ill  enough  to  need 
them?" 

"Yes,  I  have  needed  help  at  times ;  but  it  has  always 
come  through  the  understanding  of  Christian  Science." 

"Well,  it  is  all  a  sealed  book  to  me,"  sighed  Miss 
Reynolds,  with  a  look  of  perplexity.  Then  she  in- 
quired :  "How  did  Dr.  Stanley  learn  that  you  and 
your  mother  are  Scientists?" 

'»There  is  a  little  story  connected  with  that  revela- 
tion and  our  acquaintance  with  him,"  said  Katherine. 
"There  was  a  dear  little  girl  on  board  the  Ivernia  who 
became  violently  seasick  the  day  we  sailed  for  home. 
The  ship's  surgeon  was  appealed  to,  but  he  could  do 
absolutely  nothing  for  her ;  she  grew  worse  every  hour 
for  three  days,  when  she  seemed  to  be  sinking  rapidly. 
The  surgeon  called  a  consultation  with  Dr.  Stanley  and 
another  physician  from  Philadelphia;  but  every  rem- 
edy which  their  united  learning  prescribed  failed,  ut- 
terly, to  afford  any  relief.  The  parents  were  in  despair 
and  a  gloom  settled  over  the  whole  ship,  for  it  was 
reported  that  the  little  one  would  not  live  to  land  un- 
less the  nausea  could  be  conquered.  Then  mamma 
sought  the  parents,  told  them  she  was  a  Christian  Sci- 


54  KATHERINE'S 

entist,  and,  with  their  consent,  would  try  to  help  the 
child.  The  mother  was  eager  to  try  it,  but  the  father 
sneered  openly.  He  had  'no  faith  in  any  such  mum- 
mery/ he  said,  yet  he  finally  yielded  to  his  wife's  almost 
frantic  appeals  and  gave  his  consent.  The  dear  little 
thing  was  relieved  almost  immediately,  and  at  the  end 
of  two  hours,  after  eating  a  wholesome  meal,  was 
wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  carried  on  deck,  weak  and 
white  as  a  snowflake,  it  is  true,  but  entirely  free  from 
the  dreadful  nausea,  and  smiling  happily  as  she  lay  in 
her  father's  arms  and  breathed  in  the  fresh,  pure  air. 
The  next  day  she  was  dressed  and  playing  about  the 
deck  with  other  children." 

"Well,  that  was  a  signal  triumph  over  materia  med- 
ica,  wasn't  it?  How  did  the  doctors  bear  it?"  queried 
Miss  Reynolds,  who  had  been  deeply  interested  in  the 
story. 

"The  ship's  surgeon  and  Dr.  Fletcher,  of  Philadel- 
phia, gave  mamma  a  very  wide  berth ;  but  Dr.  Stanley 
appeared  to  be  really  interested  and  anxious  to  learn  the 
secret  of  the  sudden  cure.  He  found  it  very  difficult, 
however,  to  accept  some  of  our  views,  and  it  was  too 
funny  for  anything  to  hear  him,  day  after  day,  trying 
to  corner  mamma  upon  numberless  points  on  which  he 
had  spent  years  of  study,"  and  Katherine  laughed  out 
merrily  over  some  of  the  memories  which  her  account 
had  recalled. 

"That  was  what  he  meant,  perhaps,  when  he  said 
'Mrs.  Minturn  would  not  be  teased  and  could  not  be 
defeated  in  an  argument'?" 

"Yes ;  he  was  very  good-natured  over  it,  though, 
gallantly  bearing  his  defeat,  never  manifesting  the 


SHEAVES  55 

slightest  irritation,  and  was  always  most  courteous. 
He  is  very  cultured,  and,  having  traveled  extensively, 
we  found  much  to  admire  and  a  very  delightful  com- 
pagnon  de  voyage  in  him." 

Miss  Reynolds  shot  a  keen  look  at  the  girl's  ani- 
mated facg^^ 

"Yes,"  she  observed  to  herself,  "and  if  I  am  not  very 
much  mistaken,  our  'cultured  gentleman'  heartily  re- 
ciprocates that  last  statement."  Then  she  remarked  to 
Katherine :  "He  is  really  a  noble  fellow  and  bound  to 
make  his  mark  in  the  world.  It  is  a  great  pity,  though, 
that  he  should  be  so  handicapped  in  his  career." 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  the  girl,  in 
astonishment. 

"Oh !  do  you  not  know  that  he  is  partially  blind  ?" 

"No,  indeed !  Why,  he  has  beautiful  eyes !"  said 
Katherine,  flushing. 

"Yes,  dear,  I  know  he  has,  and  there  are  very  few 
who  even  suspect  his  misfortune,  but  it  is  true,  never- 
theless. When  he  was  a  boy  of  nine,"  Miss  Reynolds 
went  on  to  explain,  "his  father  was  showing  him,  one 
Fourth  of  July,  how  to  manage  some  cannon  crackers. 
By  some  fatality,  the  first  and  only  one  fired  hit  a  post, 
glanced  off  and  struck  the  child  in  the  eye.  When  he 
recovered  somewhat  from  the  fright  and  pain  caused 
by  the  accident,  no  wound  could  be  found,  although 
there  was  some  discoloration  from  the  bruise;  but  he 
said  he  could  not  see  with  the  injured  eye.  The  best 
oculists  were  consulted,  and  all  agreed  in  their  verdict : 
'There  was  a  partial  dislocation  of  the  optic  nerve,  and 
his  sight  would  never  again  be  normal;  it  might  pos- 
sibly improve  with  the  lapse  of  time,  but  the  injury 


56  KATHERINE'S 

was  permanent ;'  and  so  it  has  proved.  He  can  detect 
light  from  darkness  with  that  eye,  but  that  is  all." 

Katherine  made  no  reply  when  this  account  was  con- 
cluded, but  there  came  into  her  face  a  look  which,  her 
teacher  was  beginning  to  observe,  always  appeared 
whenever  mention  was  made  of  sickness  or  trouble  of 
any  kind ;  it  was  a  far-away  expression,  as  if  her 
thoughts  had  been  lifted  above  and  beyond  the  world 
and  worldly  things. 

It  was  only  for  a  moment,  however;  she  presently 
awoke  to  her  surroundings,  and  calling  attention  to  the 
view  before  them  thus  changed  the  subject,  which  was 
not  referred  to  again. 

Meantime,  Dr.  Stanley  walked  briskly  towards  the 
seminary,  but  with  a  very  thoughtful  face  and  mien, 
as  if  he  were  pondering  some  weighty  subject. 

"It  would  be  regarded  as  the  height  of  absurdity," 
he  muttered  to  himself.  "But  I  wonder — I  really  would 
like  to  put  it  to  the  test." 

Then  suddenly  straightening  himself  with  a  resolute 
air,  he  quickened  his  pace  and  was  soon  inside  the 
school  grounds,  reaching  the  building  just  in  season  to 
assist  Mrs.  Seabrook  and  the  nurse  in  getting  Dorothy 
inside. 

"Oh !  Uncle  Phillip !"  joyously  exclaimed  the  girl,  as 
soon  as  she  espied  him,  for  she  dearly  loved  this  gentle 
man,  who  was  always  as  tender  as  a  woman  in  his 
treatment  of  her,  and  spared  no  pains  to  contribute  to 
her  comfort  and  happiness.  "I  was  afraid  you  would 
not  come  to-day!" 

"I  know  I  am  late,  Dorrie,  but  I  was  detained  at  the 
office  by  a  new  patient,  and  now  I  have  another  coming 


SHEAVES  57 

in  an  hour,"  he  said,  as  he  bent^to  touch  her  forehead 
with  his  lips. 

"Oh  i  then  you  can't  stay  to  finish  that  pretty  Ger- 
man story !"  cried  the  child,  in  a  tone  of  disappoint- 
ment. 

"Not  to-day,  dearie;  but  I  will  come  to-morrow,  to 
let  mamma  and  papa  go  to  church  together,  and  we 
will  have  a  fine  time  by  ourselves." 

Patient  Dorothy  expressed  herself  as  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  this  arrangement,  and  was  soon  laughing 
merrily  over  some  amusing  incidents,  of  which  this  good 
comrade  of  hers  appeared  to  have  an  exhaustless  store. 

These  visits  from  her  "jolly  M.D.  uncle,"  as  she 
sometimes  called  him,  were  like  oases  in  a  desert  to  the 
suffering  child,  for  he  invariably  made  her  forget  her- 
self, and  always  left  her  bright  and  happy  with  some- 
thing pleasant  to  think  about  and  talk  over  with  her 
mother  or  nurse. 

He  rolled  her  to  her  room,  where,  after  a  few  min- 
utes' chat,  he  made  a  brief  examination  of  her  condi- 
tion, with  some  slight  change  in  her  medicines,  then 
left  her  and  sought  Prof.  Seabrook  iri  his  study,  for  it 
was  his  custom  to  report  to  him  after  each  visit. 

"Well  ?"  he  questioned,  eagerly,  as  the  physician  en- 
tered the  room,  for  the  child  was  "the  apple  of  his  eye," 
and  he  watched  her  every  symptom  most  jealously. 

"I  think  Dorrie  is  holding  her  own  pretty  well." 

"Oh !  Phillip,  that  is  the  same  old  story  that  Dr.  Ab- 
bot used  to  tell  me  before  you  came  home  and  took  the 
case,"  Prof.  Seabrook  exclaimed,  in  a  disheartened 
tone. 

"Iknow,  Will;  it  must  grow  monotonous  to  you," 


58  KATHERINE'S 

said  his  brother-in-law,  as  he  laid  a  sympathetic  hand 
on  his  companion's  arm.  "But,  truly,  there  is  nothing 
else  to  tell  you;  you  instructed  me  to  give  you  'facts 
with  no  evasions,'  and  honor  compels  me  to  obey  you." 

"True;  and  I  know  you  will  bring  all  your  skill,  all 
your  experience  to  bear  upon  the  case,"  said  the  yearn- 
ing father,  with  a  note  of  pathetic  appeal  in  his  voice 
that  touched  his  listener  deeply. 

"Most  assuredly,"  earnestly  returned  the  physician; 
but  an  involuntary,  though  quickly  repressed,  sigh  es- 
caped him  as  he  said  it. 

Prof.  Seabrook's  keen  ear  detected  it  and  a  spasm 
of  fear  clutched  his  heart.  But  he  would  not  voice  it ; 
he  shrank  from  having  it  corroborated. 

"There  is  one  thing  more  which  could  be  done,  which 
might,  perhaps,  result  in  giving  Dorrie  relief  from  the 
troublesome  pain,"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  after  a  moment 
of  thought,  adding:  "I  have  been  waiting  for  her  to 
get  stronger  before  suggesting  it." 

"What  is  it?"  briefly  inquired  his  companion. 

The  young  man  explained  the  operation,  and  the 
father  shivered  involuntarily. 

"That  means  great  suffering — at  least  for  a  time," 
he  said,  with  dry  lips. 

"Yes,"  and  Phillip  Stanley's  eyes  grew  very  pitiful 
as  they  met  the  almost  hopeless  ones  opposite  him. 

"I  cannot  bear  it!"  cried  his  brother-in-law,  pas- 
sionately. 

There  followed  a  somber  silence  of  several  minutes, 
during  which  each  heart  struggled  in  secret  rebellion 
under  the  galling  burden  imposed  upon  it. 

"There  is  an  alternative  which  we  might  try  before 


SHEAVES  59 

attempting  such  radical  treatment,"  Dr.  Stanley  at 
length  remarked,  with  some  hesitation.  "It — at  least 
it  could  do  no  harm,  if — if  you  are  willing  to  try." 

"Anything — anything  that  will  spare  my  child  to  me 
and  save  her  suffering,"  burst  impetuously  from  Wil- 
liam Seabrook's  lips. 

"You  have  heard  of — Christian  Science?" 

"What!"  demanded  the  astonished  principal  of  Hil- 
ton Seminary,  sitting  suddenly  erect  and  bending  a 
look  of  scorn  upon  his  companion.  "You  suggest  such 
an  absurd  alternative  as  that  to  me,  and  for  such  a 
case  as  this !" 

"I  know  it  sounds  absurd ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  it 
could  at  least  do  no  harm." 

"The  suggestion  is  ridiculous ;  I  have  no  patience 
with  it,"  was  the  sharp  retort. 

"Well,  it  may  seem  ridiculous  to  you,  but  if  it  can 
cure  one  disease  I  do  not  know  why  it  could  not  others," 
the  physician  mildly  rejoined ;  and  then  he  proceeded  to 
relate  the  story  which  Katherine  had  told  her  teacher 
that  same  hour,  but  without  mentioning  any  names. 

"Nonsense!  It  was  simply  hypnotism,  mesmerism," 
said  the  elder  man  when  he  concluded. 

"No,  it  did  not  work  at  all  like  hypnotism,"  was  the 
positive  reply.  "However,  if  you  are  opposed  to  try- 
ing it,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said." 

"I  am  opposed  to  it,  most  decidedly,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, almost  harshly,  and  his  brother  wondered  at  his 
unusual  mood.  "I  believe  the  whole  thing — root, 
branch  and  practice — to  be  an  invention  of  Satan  him- 
self, and  I  would  not  give  it  countenance  under  any 
circumstances." 


60  KATHERINE'S 

"Not  even  to  save  your  nearest  and  dearest?"  que- 
ried Phillip  Stanley,  and  wholly  unable  to  account  for 
the  excitement  and  irritability  of  his  usually  dignified 
and  high-bred  relative. 

The  professor  deigned  no  reply,  but  the  obstinate 
frown  upon  his  brow  and  the  stern  compression  of  his 
lips  were  sufficient  warning  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
pursue  the  subject. 

"Well,  it  was  only  a  suggestion,  Will,"  the  younger 
man  said,  in  a  friendly  tone.  "Of  course,  I  have  no 
real  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  the  method  myself ;  only,  as 
I  shrink  from  the  operation  on  a  delicate  girl  like  Dor- 
rie,  it  occurred  to  me  that  we  might  at  least  give  Chris- 
tian Science  a  trial.  But  I  must  be  off  to  meet  another 
appointment.  I  will  be  up  again  to-morrow  morning 
to  stay  with  Dorothy  while  you  and  Emilie  go  to 
church." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  which  his  brother-in-law 
grasped  and  wrung. 

"You  are  a  faithful  friend,  Phil.  Don't  think  for  a 
moment  that  I  do  not  appreciate  you ;  but  I  believe  I've 
been  out  of  sorts  for  several  days,"  said  the  professor, 
with  a  deprecatory  smile. 

"It's  all  right,  old  boy;  good-by,"  was  the  cheery 
response,  as  the  young  man  went  out,  softly  closing  the 
door  after  him,  but  with  a  weary  look  in  his  eyes  which 
the  other  did  not  see. 


SHEAVES  61 


CHAPTER   V. 

Katherines  First  Sabbath  at  Hilton. 

Katherine's  first  Sabbath  at  Hilton  Seminary  dawned 
a  perfect  winter  morning,  and,  starting  forth  in  good 
season,  she  sought  the  little  hall  on  Grove  Street,  where 
the  few  Scientists  of  the  city  met  each  week  to  enjoy 
the  service  which  has  become  so  dear  to  the  heart  of 
every  student  of  God's  word,  as  spiritually  interpreted 
according  to  Christian  Science. 

She  had  carefully  studied  the  lesson  during  the  week, 
and  was  therefore  prepared  to  enjoy  to  the  utmost 
each  section  as  its  point  was  clearly  brought  out  by  the 
readers,  to  teach  and  bless;  and  so,  when  she  again 
turned  her  steps  homeward,  she  felt  calmed,  refreshed 
and  strengthened  for  the  duties  that  lay  before  her. 

As  she  was  about  to  enter  the  building  she  encoun- 
tered Prof,  and  Mrs.  Seabrook,  who  also  had  just  re- 
turned from  church. 

The  former  glanced  askance  at  her  books,  lifted  his 
hat  to  her  with  frigid  politeness,  and  passed  on  to  his 
study. 

Mrs.  Seabrook,  however,  paused  and  greeted  her 
most  cordially,  whereupon  Katherine  inquired  for  Dor- 
othy. 

"She  was  not  quite  as  well  this  morning,"  replied  the 
mother,  an  expression  of  care  and  weariness  flitting 


62  KATHERINE'S 

over  her  sweet  face.  "My  brother,  Dr.  Stanley,  has 
been  with  her  while  we  were  at  church,  and  I  hope  to 
find  her  better,  for  he  always  does  her  good.  Dorothy 
was  greatly  attracted  to  you  yesterday,  Miss  Minturn," 
she  added,  smiling,  "and  I  hope  you  will  find  time  to 
drop  in  to  see  her  now  and  then." 

"Indeed  I  will ;  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me,  for  I  love 
children,"  Katherine  replied,  cordially,  and  much  grati- 
fied to  have  yesterday's  invitation  repeated,  while  there 
was  a  feeling  of  deep  tenderness  in  her  heart  for  the 
long-suffering  woman  as  she  passed  on  to  her  room. 

After  dinner  she  looked  over  the  Bible  lesson  for  the 
afternoon.  She  was  dreading  this  ordeal  somewhat, 
for  she  well  knew  how  widely  different  is  the  old  theo- 
logical exposition  of  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  from 
its  spiritual  interpretation,  as  she  had  been  taught  it 
according  to  Christian  Science.  But  she  tried  to  feel 
that,  if  she  was  called  upon  to  express  an  opinion,  she 
would  be  led  to  speak  wisely  and  yet  be  obedient  to 
Prof.  Seabrook's  command  not  to  "flaunt  her  views  be- 
fore the  school." 

She  hoped  that  he  would  ignore  her  altogether,  and 
thus  avoid  an  awkward  situation  for  them  both. 

When  the  class  convened  she  was  surprised  to  find 
Dorothy  seated  in  her  chair  beside  her  father,  and 
learned  afterward  that  the  girl  was  often  present  dur- 
ing the  lessons,  always  giving  the  closest  attention  to 
what  was  said,  even  asking  questions  occasionally  that 
puzzled  wiser  heads  than  hers. 

As  was  his  custom,  Prof.  Seabrook  opened  the  exer- 
cises with  prayer,  followed  by  a  familiar  hymn.  Then 
he  gave  a  short  talk  upon  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis, 


SHEAVES  63 

as  a  whole,  preliminary  to  a  more  general  discussion 
of  it. 

He  showed  himself  to  have  been  a  critical  student 
of  the  Bible,  and  his  remarks  were  extremely  interest- 
ing along  the  line  of  his  own  views.  His  rhetoric  was 
flawless,  his  figures  apt  and  beautiful,  his  points  well 
made,  and  he  held  the  undivided  attention  of  every- 
one to  the  end. 

"I  have  given  you  this  talk  upon  creation  as  a 
whole,"  he  remarked,  in  conclusion,  "because  the  sub- 
ject is  too  intricate  and  vast  to  be  discussed  in  detail — 
that  would  require  much  study  and  many  sittings — 
and  we  will  spend  the  remainder  of  the  hour  upon  two 
questions :  What  is  God  ?  What  is  man  and  his  rela- 
tion to  God?  Miss  Walton,  will  you  tell  us  what  God 
is,  from  your  point  of  view?" 

Miss  Walton  instantly  became  confused.  She  had 
no  clear  ideas  about  God,  and  after  nervously  turning 
the  leaves  of  her  Bible  for  a  moment  and  blushing  fu- 
riously, finally  said  so.  The  principal  called  upon  sev- 
eral others,  with  a  similar  result.  Everyone  loved  to 
listen  to  him,  for  his  graceful  diction  was  like  music 
in  their  ears,  but  when  called  upon  to  express  their  own 
opinions  they  were  all,  with  a  few  exceptions,  literally 
tongue-tied.  Two  or  three  of  the  more  thoughtful 
ones  made  an  attempt  to  define  Deity,  but  their  defini- 
tions, for  the  most  part,  were  the  hackneyed  ones  of 
old  theology. 

The  professor  began  to  look  rather  weary,  especially 
as  he  detected,  here  and  there,  a  yawn  behind  an  up- 
lifted book.  All  at  once  a  peculiar  gleam  leaped  into 
his  eyes. 


64  KATHERINE'S 

"Miss  Minturn,  what  is  your  conception  of  God?" 
he  inquired,  turning  abruptly  to  her. 

The  question  came  almost  as  an  electric  shock  to 
Katherine  and  brought  the  quick  color  to  her  cheeks. 

But  she  quelled  this  sense  of  disquiet  instantly. 

"God  is  Spirit,"  she  quietly  replied. 

"You  mean  that  God  is  a  spirit,"  quickly  corrected 
the  professor.  "That  definition  has  already  been  given 
several  times;  but  I  am  trying  to  ascertain  your  own 
conception  of  Deity.  Why  did  you  omit  the  article?" 

Katherine  lifted  her  earnest  brown  eyes  to  him,  and 
in  them  he  read  an  expression  of  mingled  surprise  and 
appeal,  and  he  knew,  as  well  as  if  she  had  voiced  her 
thought,  that  she  remembered  he  had  forbidden  her  to 
express  her  peculiar  views  and  wished  to  obey  him  to 
the  letter. 

But  having  put  the  question,  he  intended  to  have  an 
answer  of  some  kind,  while  he  also  experienced  some 
curiosity  as  to  whether  she  could  give  a  comprehensive 
explanation  of  the  term  she  had  used. 

"If  you  purposely  omitted  the  article,"  he  resumed, 
as  she  was  not  quick  to  reply,  "you  must  have  had  a 
reason  for  so  doing;  and" — with  a  more  courteous  in- 
flection— "as  there  is  supposed  to  be  perfect  freedom 
in  the  class,  both  in  asking  questions  and  expressing 
opinions,  we  would  like  you  to  explain  your  position." 

"The  term  'a  spirit'  implies  one  of  a  kind,  or,  one 
of  many,  does  it  not  ?  But  I  understand  God  to  be  In- 
finite Spirit,"  Katherine  replied,  with  quiet  self-pos- 
session. 

"Well,  what  do  you  mean  by  'infinite  spirit?'  De- 
fine 'spirit,'  if  you  please." 


SHEAVES  65 

Katherine  was  amazed  that  he  should  thus  pursue 
the  subject.  She  wondered  if  he  could  be  utterly  ig- 
norant of  the  scientific  definition  of  God.  She  had 
supposed  that  he  must  have  read  something  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Christian  Science,  or  he  would  not  have  been 
so  bitterly  opposed  to  it,  or,  was  he  only  trying  to  drive 
her  into  a  corner? 

However,  she  saw  there  was  no  escape  but  to  follow 
his  lead.  He  had  now  given  her  license  to  speak,  and 
she  felt  that  she  had  no  right  to  neglect  her  oppor- 
tunity. 

"Spirit  is  Mind,  Intelligence,  Life,"  she  said,  using 
some  of  the  terms  she  had  employed  in  talking  with 
Miss  Reynolds  the  previous  day,  and  which  she  thought 
would  be  readily  understood  by  the  class. 

"Why,  Prof.  Seabrook,"  here  interposed  one  of  the 
seniors,  her  face  aglow,  her  eyes  alight,  "I  like  that 
definition  of  God.  I  never  heard  it  before,  but  it  ap- 
peals to  me." 

The  gentleman  flushed  slightly  and  acknowledged 
the  observation  with  a  grave  bow,  then  inquired  of 
Katherine:  "And  are  you  satisfied  with  that  concept 
of  God,  Miss  Minturn?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Don't  you  think  it  rather  a  vague,  visionary  idea 
of  the  Almighty  ?"  queried  the  gentleman,  with  a  scorn- 
ful dilation  of  his  thin  nostrils.  "Do  you  associate  no 
thought  of  individuality  or  personality  with  Him?" 

"Do  you  mean  as  human  beings  are  personal  and  in- 
dividual?" Katherine  respectfully  inquired. 

"Well,  I  must  at  least  have  something  more  tangible 
than  an  unknown  quantity  for  my  God,"  he  replied, 


66  KATHERINES 

evasively,  as  he  hurriedly  began  to  turn  the  leaves  of 
his  Bible  in  search  of  a  text.  "He  is  spoken  of  as  a 
king,  ruler,  judge,  and  so  forth,  and  those  terms  cer- 
tainly convey  the  idea  of  personality." 

"But  can  you  limit  or  outline  Deity,  sir?  Would  not 
that  destroy  the  omnipresence  of  God?" 

Again  the  man  changed  color  a  trifle,  while,  as  he 
continued  to  search  the  pages  of  his  Bible,  he  became 
conscious  of  a  sudden  inward  shock. 

The  question  had  started  a  new  train  of  thought. 
Certainly,  infinity,  omnipresence,  could  neither  be  lim- 
ited nor  outlined ;  those  were  self-evident  facts. 

There  was  no  yawning  in  the  class  now.  The  at- 
tention of  everyone  was  riveted  upon  the  speakers, 
while  Dorothy  leaned  forward  in  her  chair,  her  ear- 
nest eyes  glancing  from  one  face  to  the  other,  her 
eager  ears  drinking  in  their  every  word. 

"But  what  do  you  say  to  this  passage  from  Hebrews, 
Miss  Minturn,  where  Paul,  speaking  of  Christ,  calls 
Him  the  express  image  of  His — God's — person  ?"*  de- 
manded the  professor — having  found  the  text  he  was 
looking  for — with  a  note  of  triumph  in  his  tone  which 
indicated  that  he  had  now  propounded  an  unanswer- 
able argument. 

"I  have  been  told  that  the  Greek  word,  which  has 
been  translated  'person'  in  the  text  you  have  read, 
really  means  character,  and  it  is  so  rendered  in  my 
Bible,  which  is  the  revised  version,"  Katherine  replied, 
as  she  opened  her  book  and  found  the  passage. 

Now   Prof.   Seabrook,   although  he  prided  himself 

*Hebrews,  1-3. 


SHEAVES  67 

upon  being  strictly  up  to  date  in  everything  pertaining 
to  his  profession,  had  neglected  to  provide  himself 
with  the  revised  version  of  the  New  Testament.  How- 
ever, now  that  his  attention  was  called  to  the  fact,  he 
remembered  having  heard  this  text  and  its  change  dis- 
cussed among  brother  professors,  but  it  had  for  the 
moment  escaped  his  memory. 

Yet  he  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  no  one  would 
have  suspected  from  his  manner  that  he  was  deeply 
chagrined  to  find  this  young  girl  so  well  versed  in  the 
Scriptures  and  able  to  so  logically  sustain  her  posi- 
tion upon  every  point. 

"Ah !"  he  observed,  after  a  moment  of  thought,  and 
in  his  blandest  tone,  "I  have  a  Greek  Testament  in  my 
study  and  will  look  up  the  word  later.  I  find  we  can- 
not take  up  the  other  question  to-day,  as  our  time  has 
expired,  and" — closing  his  books — "we  will  leave  it  for 
another  lesson.  The  class  is  dismissed." 

He  arose  as  he  concluded,  and  the  young  ladies  filed 
quietly  out  of  the  room ;  but,  once  beyond  hearing,  they 
gathered  in  groups  to  talk  over  the  interesting  discus- 
sion that  had  been  so  suddenly  cut  short. 

Katherine  paused  beside  Dorothy's  chair  on  her  way 
o.ut,  and  made  some  pleasant  reference  to  their  meeting 
of  the  previous  day,  and  then  would  have  passed  on, 
but  the  girl  threw  out  her  hand  and  caught  hers,  thus 
detaining  her. 

"You  must  have  studied  the  Bible  a  great  deal,  Miss 
Minturn,  to  get  such  lovely  thoughts  about  God,"  she 
said,  in  an  eager  tone. 

Katherine  flushed,  for  she  knew  Prof.  Seabrook  was 


68  KATHERINE'S 

listening,  and  felt  that  she  had  already  said  enough  re- 
garding her  views. 

"Yes,  I  am  very  fond  of  studying  the  Bible,"  she 
simply  returned. 

"Papa,"  continued  Dorothy,  turning  to  him,  "how 
could  you  say  that  Miss  Minturn's  idea  of  God  is  vague 
and  visionary?" 

"It  certainly  seems  so  to  me,  dear,"  her  father  briefly 
returned. 

"Well,  it  doesn't  to  me,"  was  the  positive  rejoinder; 
"not  half  so — so  queer  as  to  think  of  Him  as  a  man,  or 
three  men  all  mixed  up  together  in  one,  and  able  to  be 
everywhere  at  once,"  and  there  was  a  look  of  thought- 
fulness  in  the  girl's  large,  blue  eyes  which  betrayed  a 
mind  on  the  alert. 

"I  think  we  will  not  talk  any  more  about  that  now," 
said  her  father.  "You  must  be  tired  from  sitting  here 
so  long,  and  ought  to  rest." 

"You  know  I  never  get  tired  in  the  Sunday  class, 
papa,"  cried  Dorothy,  and  still  clinging  to  Katherine, 
who  had  tried  to  release  her  hand,  for  she  was  anxious 
to  escape  further  argument.  "And,"  she  added,  "I 
want  to  ask  Miss  Minturn  another  question." 

"I  think  I  will  have  to  run  away,  dear,"  Katherine 
interposed,  "for  it  is  almost  tea  time,  you  know." 

"Please — please !  haven't  you  time  to  tell  me  just  one 
thing  more?" 

"Yes,  I  have  time  for  that,  but "  and  she  lifted 

a  doubtful  look  to  her  principal. 

"Papa,  may  I  ask  her?"  pleaded  the  girl,  intui- 
tively realizing  that  her  new  friend  feared  his  disap- 
proval. 


SHEAVES  69 

The  man  never  refused  his  child  anything  in  reason, 
and  he  could  not  now,  although  he  felt  secretly  antag- 
onistic, and  his  look  was  almost  stern  as  he  responded : 

"Very  well,  dear,  if  Miss  Minturn  will  kindly  have 
patience  with  you." 

"Well,  then,"  and  Dorothy  eagerly  turned  again  to 
Katherine,  "if  God  is  Mind,  Intelligence  and  Life,  as 
you  said,  how  can  man  be  His  image  and  likeness?" 

For  a  moment  Katherine  was  dismayed,  in  view  of 
the  depths  involved  in  this  query,  and  at  a  loss  how  to 
reply  in  a  way  to  clearly  convey  the  truth  to  this  in- 
quiring mind,  while  a  slightly  ironical  smile  curved 
the  lips  of  the  learned  professor,  as  he  said  to  himself : 

"This  is  a  poser  for  the  young  woman." 

"You  do  not  think  the  account  of  the  creation  of 
man  as  God's  image  and  likeness  refers  to  this  imper- 
fect mortal  or  physical  body,  do  you,  Dorothy  ?"  she  in- 
quired, after  a  moment  of  thought. 

"Why,  yes;  I've  always  supposed  it  did.  I've 
thought  that  perhaps  God  made  him  perfect  in  the  first 
place  and  then,  somehow,  He  let  him  get  all  wrong.  I 
can't  see  how  or  why,  though  I've  heard  ministers  and 
other  people  say  'it  was  for  some  wise  purpose.'  It's 
a  great  muddle,  I  think,"  Dorothy  concluded,  with  a 
sigh. 

"No,  God  never  let  any  of  His  children  'get  wrong.' 
He  conld  not,  for  'all  His  ways  are  perfect,'  you  know. 
The  man  of  God's  creating  is  the  spiritual  image  and 
likeness  of  Himself,"  Katherine  explained. 

"Oh-o!  I  begin  to  see.  Why,  papa,  don't  you  see? 
That  must  be  what  that  verse  means — the  express  im- 
age of  His  person — His  character!"  and  Dorothy 


70  KATHERINE'S 

turned  to  her  father,  her  face  all  aglow  as  she  grasped 
this  new  thought. 

"No,  don't  go  just  yet,"  she  pleaded,  as  Katherine 
made  another  effort  to  release  her  hand.  "Tell  me 
this,  please :  if  everybody  became  good,  perfect  in  char- 
acter, would  their  bodies  grow  perfect,  too?  would  sick 
people  get  strong  and  well  and  happy?" 

"I  believe  God's  Word  teaches  us  so,"  said  Kath- 
erine, softly,  and  wondering  why  Prof.  Seabrook  did 
not  put  a  stop  to  a  conversation  which  he  must  know 
was  trespassing  upon  forbidden  ground. 

"How  could  they?  I  wish  I  knew  how,"  said  the 
child,  plaintively. 

"You  know  Paul  tells  us,  'Be  ye  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  your  mind,'  and  to  'put  off  the  mortal  and 
put  on  the  immortal.' ''' 

"  'Put  off  the  mortal,'  "  repeated  the  girl,  with  a  look 
of  perplexity,  "but  how?" 

"It  is  a  growth,  dear;  it  is  to  put  out  of  mind 
one  by  one,  every  wrong  thought,  and  think  only  good 
thoughts — God's  thoughts — and  in  this  way  one  grows 
good,  pure  and  perfect.  Let  us  take  a  simple  illustra- 
tion," Katherine  continued,  as  she  saw  how  eagerly 
the  child  was  drinking  in  her  words.  "You  have  seen 
a  lily  bulb?" 

Dorothy  nodded. 

"It  is  not  at  all  pretty,  and  one  would  throw  it  away 
as  of  no  account,  if  he  did  not  know  of  the  precious 
little  germ  and  its  possibilities  hidden  away  inside.  We 
know  how,  when  the  warm  sunlight  shines  upon  the 
spot  where  it  has  been  put  away  in  the  earth,  when 
the  dews  and  soft  rains  fall  upon  it,  something  begins 


SHEAVES  71 

to  happen  down  there  in  the  dark;  the  ugly  bulb  be- 
gins to  change,  to  soften  and  melt  away;  one  by  one 
the  brown  husks  drop  off  and  disappear  as  the  tiny 
germ  within,  awakening  to  a  new  sense  of  life,  starts 
upward  to  find  more  light  and  freedom  and  a  purer 
atmosphere.  Then  two  small  leaves  of  living  green — 
harbingers  of  better  things — begin  to  unfold;  after 
that  a  sturdy  stalk,  with  a  bud  of  promise,  appears,  and 
all  the  time  reaching  up,  up  towards  the  brightness  be- 
yond and  above,  until  at  last  the  pure,  perfect  and 
fragrant  lily  bursts  into  bloom." 

"That  was  very  prettily  told,  Miss  Minturn;  but 
your  figure  is  incomplete,  for,  after  all,  you  have  only 
a  material  flower — it  is  far  from  being  spiritual  or  im- 
mortal," Prof.  Seabrook  here  interposed. 

"Ah !"  said  Katherine,  lifting  a  pair  of  sweetly  se- 
rious eyes  to  him,  "it  is  only  a  simple  illustration — a 
little  parable  pointing  to  spiritual  development  and 
perfection,  and  the  pure  and  flawless  lily  is  but  the 
type  of  that  which  mortal  'eye  hath  not  seen.'  The 
homely  bulb  corresponds  to  the  mortal  man,  wrapped 
up  in  the  density  and  husks  of  materiality;  the  tiny 
germ  is  the  symbol  of  that  ray  or  spark  of  immor- 
tality that  is  in  every  human  consciousness  and  which, 
governed  by  the  perfect  law  of  Life,  'whose  eternal 
mandate  is  growth,'*  and  nourished  by  the  sunlight  of 
divine  Love,  puts  off,  one  by  one,  the  husks,  or  the 
mortal  man's  wrong  ways  of  thinking  and  living,  and, 
ever  reaching  Godward,  puts  on  or  unfolds  first  the 
tiny  leaves  of  living  green,  then  the  stalk  and  bud,  and, 


""'Science  and  Health,"  page  520. 


72  KATHERINE'S 

last,  the  white  flower  of  purity,  which  is  the  image  and 
likeness  of  God;  and  this  image  and  likeness  is  im- 
mortal." 

"Oh,  what  a  lovely — lovely  story !"  breathed  Dor- 
othy, with  luminous  eyes.  "Then,  if  one  never  had 
any  but  good  thoughts,  perfect  thoughts,  one  would 
grow  to  be  perfect  and  spiritual." 

'That  is  what  I  think  the  Bible  teaches." 

"I  think  it  is  beautiful.  I  never  heard  anybody  talk 
like  this  before!"  cried  the  child,  with  a  joyful  ring  in 
her  tones.  "And  now  tell  me  how " 

Katherine  laughed  out  musically,  and,  stooping, 
kissed  the  small  hand  that  she  was  still  holding. 

"You  dear  child !  do  you  know  how  long  we  have 
been  talking?"  she  said.  "I  think  we  must  stop  right 
here,  and — I  hope  Prof.  Seabrook  does  not  think  I 
have  said  too  much,"  she  concluded,  glancing  at  the 
man  who  stood  like  a  statue,  with  an  inscrutable  look 
on  his  high-bred  face. 

He  made  no  reply,  and  the  situation  might  have  be- 
come awkward  if  Dorothy  had  not  exclaimed : 

"No,  indeed ;  you  haven't  said  half  enough ;  and  will 
you  tell  me  some  more  things  that  you  believe,  another 
time?" 

"If — your  father  gives  me  permission,"  Katherine 
replied,  with  heightened  color.  "Now  I  must  go,  for 
I  am  sure  the  bell  will  ring  in  a  few  minutes." 

"Will  you — may  I  kiss  you  before  you  go?"  begged 
the  girl,  who  was  used  to  much  petting  from  everyone, 
and  lifting  her  pale  face  to  the  bright  one  looking  down 
upon  her  and  which  seemed  to  radiate  love. 


SHEAVES  73 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Katherine,  and  heartily  returned 
the  caress. 

"Now,  good-by,"  she  added,  and,  with  a  respectful 
bow  to  her  principal,  left  the  room,  whispering  to  her- 
self as  she  tried  to  put  out  of  thought  the  misshapen 
little  figure  in  the  chair : 

"God  never  made  one  of  His  children  imperfect. 
He  made  man  upright,  and  there  is  no  power  apart 
from  God." 


74  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Materia  Medica  and  Miracles. 

The  days  and  weeks  sped  swiftly  by,  Katherine  grad- 
ually becoming  mentally  acclimated,  so  to  speak,  amid 
an  adverse  environment.  She  did  not  make  many  ac- 
quaintances, for  most  of  the  students  still  held  aloof 
from  her ;  but  she  was  content,  even  happy,  for,  with  a 
stanch  friend  in  Miss  Reynolds,  whom  she  found  most 
congenial,  and  with  whom  she  spent  much  of  her  lei- 
sure time,  she  did  not  miss  other  companionship  so 
much. 

Sadie,  her  roommate,  was  an  affectionate  and  kind- 
hearted  girl ;  but  being  of  an  indolent,  ease-loving 
temperament,  she  was  often  a  trial  to  Katherine,  who 
loved  order  and  system  and  believed  it  to  be  the  duty 
of  everyone  to  maintain  them. 

The  girl  had  often  attempted  to  lean  upon  her  in  the 
preparation  of  some  of  her  lessons,  now  and  then  ask- 
ing to  see  her  problems  in  mathematics  and  her  trans- 
lations in  German  and  Latin.  But  this  was  something 
that  Katherine  would  not  lend  herself  to,  except  in  so 
far  as,  occasionally,  to  remind  her  of  some  forgotten 
point  in  a  rule  that  would  suggest  a  way  to  work  out 
the  knotty  problem,  or  to  give  her  a  cue  as  to  case  or 
tense,  that  would  assist  in  the  translation. 

While    she    shrank    from    wronging   her,    even    in 


SHEAVES  75 

thought,  there  were  times  when  she  felt  sure  that  she 
had  taken  advantage  of  her  absence  from  the  room  to 
look  over  her  papers  and  copy  from  them. 

"I  cannot  let  you  see  my  work,"  she  said  one  day, 
when,  after  repeated  but  unheeded  hints,  Sadie  had 
asked  her  outright  to  allow  her  to  look  at  her  problems, 
saying  that  she  had  not  had  time  to  do  them  for  her- 
self. "It  would  not  be  honest,"  she  continued,  de- 
termined to  settle  the  matter  once  for  all;  "it  would 
simply  be  showing  Miss  Reynolds  my  work  and  claim- 
ing it  as  your  own." 

"Now  I  call  that  downright  mean  and  disobliging," 
Sadie  returned,  with  an  injured  air,  but  flushing  un- 
comfortably and  forgetting  for  the  moment  the  many 
other  acts  of  kindness  Katherine  had  shown  her.  "Of 
course,  I  don't  expect  you  to  do  it  every  day,  but  just 
this  once,  so  that  I  can  make  a  good  showing  in  the 
class,  could  do  no  harm;  and,  honey,  I'll  promise  to 
spend  all  my  recreation  time,  this  afternoon,  going  over 
the  work  for  myself." 

"But  that  would  be  like  using  a  key,  which  is  for- 
bidden, you  know.  No,  Sadie,  I  can't  do  it,"  Katherine 
reiterated,  firmly  but  kindly.  "It  may  seem  'disoblig- 
ing' to  you,  but  you  know  that  is  not  my  motive.  I 
feel  that  I  should  be  doing  you  a  personal  wrong,  be- 
sides deceiving  others,  to  allow  you  to  lean  on  me  in 
any  such  way.  You  have  just  as  much  time  to  pre- 
pare your  lessons  as  I  have;  you  are  naturally  quick 
and  bright,  and,  if  you  would  spend  fewer  hours  in 
shopping  and  visiting,  there  is  no  reason  why  you 
cannot  make  as  good  a  record  for  yourself  as  anyone 
else.  One  must  do  one's  own  work,  or  be  robbed  of 


76  KATHERINE'S 

mental  capacity  and  strength  if  one  depends  upon 
another." 

"Oh,  shucks !"  retorted  Sadie,  with  an  impatient 
shrug  and  a  very  red  face,  as  she  employed  the  South- 
ern localism,  "don't  preach  to  me.  I  reckon  my  'mental 
capacity'  will  hold  out  long  enough  to  pull  me  through 
Hilton."  And  with  this  sharp  and  angry  thrust  she 
flounced  out  of  the  room,  banging  the  door  after  her. 

This  was  the  first  time  there  had  been  an  open  rup- 
ture between  them,  although  on  two  or  three  occasions, 
when  Katherine  had  quietly  resisted  being  imposed 
upon  beyond  a  certain  limit,  the  girl  had  manifested 
something  of  her  hot  Southern  temper.  She  had  al- 
ways gotten  over  it  very  quickly,  however,  and  har- 
mony had  been  restored. 

Katherine  regretted  this  "rift  in  the  lute,"  but  she 
knew  that  she  was  doing  right,  and,  after  a  few  min- 
utes spent  in  silently  declaring  that  "error  is  not  power 
and  is  always  overcome  with  good,"  she  serenely  re- 
sumed her  study. 

For  several  days  the  relations  between  the  room- 
mates were  somewhat  strained,  although  Katherine 
bravely  strove  to  ignore  the  fact  and  conduct  herself 
as  usual ;  but  Sadie  spent  very  little  time  in  her  room, 
except  during  study  hours,  when  no  conversation  was 
allowed,  and  manifested  in  other  ways  that  she  had 
neither  forgotten  nor  forgiven. 

Meantime  Dorothy  had  been  ailing  more  than  usual, 
and,  at  Dr.  Stanley's  suggestion,  a  consultation  of 
physicians  was  called,  when  the  young  man  proposed 
and  explained  an  operation  which  he  had  seen  per- 


SHEAVES  77 

formed  abroad,  and  which  he  had  previously  mentioned 
to  his  brother-in-law. 

The  matter  was  discussed  at  length,  and  Dorothy 
was  subjected  to  a  careful  examination,  and,  though  all 
shrank  from  such  a  trying  ordeal  for  the  delicate  girl, 
the  five  learned  M.D.s  agreed  that  it  was  the  one 
thing,  humanly  speaking,  left  to  try.  That  was  all  that 
could  be  said  about  it — it  might,  or  might  not,  prove  a 
success. 

It  was  a  heart-burdened  trio,  composed  of  the  father, 
mother  and  Dr.  Stanley,  that  assembled  in  Prof.  Sea- 
brook's  study,  after  the  departure  of  the  other  physi- 
cians, to  talk  over  the  weighty  matter. 

"Well,  Emelie,  what  have  you  to  say  about  it?"  the 
elder  man  inquired  of  his  wife,  in  a  voice  that  was 
husky  from  suppressed  feeling. 

"Oh,  Will,  pray  do  not  put  the  responsibility  of  a 
decision  upon  me!"  Mrs.  Seabrook  returned,  with 
quivering  lips. 

"What  does  your  heart  dictate,  dear?"  her  husband 
pursued,  in  a  tender  tone. 

"Oh,  my  heart  rebels  against  any  further  suffering," 
she  said,  with  a  convulsive  sob. 

Tears  started  to  the  eyes  of  both  men  at  this  pathetic 
wail  from  the  mother,  and  which  found  its  echo  in  each 
heart. 

"Suppose,"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  after  a  moment  of  pain- 
ful silence,  "we  let  Dorothy  decide  for  herself.  She 
is  thoughtful  beyond  her  years,  and  I  think  she  should 
have  a  voice  in  the  matter.  Let  the  case  be  frankly 
stated  to  her,  and  we  will  abide  by  her  decision.  To 


78  KATHERINE'S 

be  plain  with  you,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  perform 
this  operation  without  her  consent." 

This  proposal  met  with  the  approval  of  Prof,  and 
Mrs.  Seabrook,  and  both  appeared  relieved  when  the 
young  man  said  he  would  take  it  upon  himself  to 
broach  the  subject  to  the  girl. 

This  he  did  with  great  tact  and  tenderness,  and,  after 
a  grave  and  quiet  talk  with  her  uncle,  in  whom  she 
placed  unbounded  confidence,  Dorothy  said  she  was 
ready  for  anything  that  he  regarded  as  necessary,  for 
she  knew  that  he  had  only  her  welfare  at  heart. 

But  Dr.  Stanley  said  there  must  be  a  time  of  "build- 
ing-up" to  get  adequate  strength,  meantime  she  must 
try  to  be  as  happy  as  possible  and  think  only  pleasant 
thoughts. 

"I  will  try,  Uncle  Phillip,"  said  the  girl,  with  a 
trustful  look  in  her  eyes,  "but" — a  wistful  expression 
sweeping  over  her  thin  face — "don't  you  think  it  is 
strange  there  is  no  such  way  of  healing,  nowadays, 
as  when  Jesus  was  here?" 

"Yes,  Dorrie,  I  do.  I  have  often  asked  myself  that 
same  question,"  replied  her  companion,  gravely. 

"How  lovely  it  would  be  if  there  was  some  one  liv- 
ing now  who  could  say  to  me,  'Take  up  thy  bed  and 
walk,'  and  I  could  do  it,"  she  continued,  with  a  note  of 
yearning  in  her  voice  that  smote  sharply  on  her  lis- 
tener's heart.  "Don't  you  believe  that  when  Jesus 
went  away  He  meant  to  have  people  keep  on  healing, 
and  teaching  others  how  to  heal,  just  as  He  had  done?" 

"Perhaps  He  did,  pet;  but  you  know  everybody 
thinks  that  those  were  'days  of  miracles/  which  were 


SHEAVES  79 

simply  intended  to  establish  the  divinity  of  the  Savior 
and  His  authority  to  teach  the  new  gospel." 

"Yes,  I  know  everybody  says  that  whenever  I  ask 
anything  about  it,"  Dorothy  returned,  with  an  involun- 
tary shrug  of  impatience,  "but,  somehow,  it  doesn't 
seem  fair  to  me  that  all  sick  people  cannot  be  healed  in 
the  same  way.  Jesus'  way  was  certainly  the  best  way 
to  cure  people — so  much  better  than  making  them 
take  horrid  medicines  and — and  cutting  them  up  with 
knives,"  and  a  shiver  ran  over  her  slight  form  as  she 
concluded. 

"Let  us  talk  of  something  else,  Dorrie.  I  do  not 
like  to  have  you  dwell  upon  that  subject,"  said  her 
uncle,  with  a  spasmodic  contraction  of  his  lips. 

"Well,  I  will  try  not  to,"  she  said,  with  a  faint  sigh. 
"But  truly,  Uncle  Phil,  I  can't  help  thinking  that  it 
was  never  intended  that  Jesus'  way  should  be  stopped 
any  more  than  the  'new  gospel,'  as  you  call  it,  was 
meant  to  be  forgotten,  or  lost,  after  His  resurrection. 
I  think  that  the  healing  was  a  part  of  the  'new  gospel.'  " 

"Well,  Miss  Thoughtful,  that  is  certainly  a  good 
argument,"  returned  her  companion,  smiling  into  the 
earnest,  uplifted  eyes.  "But  who  has  been  talking  to 
you  to  set  you  to  reasoning  so  deeply  on  the  subject?" 

He  was  wondering  if  Katherine  Minturn  might  not 
have  dropped  a  seed  of  her  doctrine  into  the  receptive 
mind  of  his  niece. 

"Nobody — I  just  thought  it  out  for  myself.  You  see 
I  can't  do  much  but  think,  and  I  often  get  very  puzzled 
about  God  and  the  queer  things  He  lets  happen.  You 
know  it  says  in  the  Bible  that  He  is  'too  pure  to  behold 
iniquity,'  or  evil — and  'does  not  regard  it  with  any 


8o  KATHERINE'S 

degree  of  allowance';  and  yet  there  seems  to  be  more 
sin,  sickness  and  dreadful  accidents  than  anything  else 
in  the  world." 

"It  is  a  mystery,  I  confess ;  but  what  makes  you 
think  that  Jesus  intended  that  His  way  of  healing 
should  be  continued  after  His  ascension  ?"  inquired  her 
uncle,  who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  child's  rea- 
soning. 

"Why,  you  see,  just  before  He  went  away  He  had  a 
talk  with  His  disciples  and  gave  them  some  last  com- 
mands. He  told  them  to  go  everywhere  and  preach  to 
everybody — to  'heal  the  sick,  raise  the  dead,  and  cast 
out  sin  or  devils.'  Now,  Uncle  Phil,  that  command  is 
all  one — the  first  part  of  it  says  'heal  the  sick,  raise  the 
dead,'  then  comes  the  rest  of  it — 'cast  out  sin ;'  and  I 
don't  see  what  right  people  have  to  pick  it  to  pieces  and 
say  He  didn't  mean  them  to  obey  any  but  the  last  part 
of  it." 

"I  see,"  nodded  the  young  man,  as  she  paused  to  im- 
press her  thought  upon  him. 

"Well,  then  He  told  them  that  everybody  who  be- 
lieved what  He  preached  would  be  able  to  do  the  same 
things.  Don't  you  remember  He  said — 'Teach  them 
to  observe' — and  observe  means  to  practice — 'all  things 
whatsoever  I  have  commanded  you.'  Those  were  His 
very  words.  Now  don't  you  think  that  meant  to  heal 
in  His  way  instead  of  using  drugs  and  all  sorts  of  queer 
things  that  the  Bible  doesn't  say  anything  about  ?"  and 
Dorothy  bent  an  eager,  inquiring  look  upon  her  uncle. 

"Where  do  you  find  all  that?"  questioned  Phillip 
Stanley,  and  thus  evading  a  direct  reply. 

But  what  she  had  said  had  set  him  thinking  of  argil- 


SHEAVES  8 1 

merits  along  the  same  line  which  Mrs.  Minturn  had 
used,  during  some  of  their  discussions  on  board  the 
Ivernia. 

Dorothy  shot  a  roguish  glance  up  at  him. 

"I  guess  you  don't  know  your  Bible  very  well,  do 
you,  Uncle  Phillip?"  she  said,  laughing.  "But  when 
you  go  home  please  read  the  last  six  verses  of  the  last 
chapter  of  Mark,  and  then  the  last  two  verses  of  the 
last  chapter  of  Matthew,  and  see  for  yourself  if  what 
Jesus  said  about  healing  the  sick  isn't  just  as  strong  as 
what  He  said  about  preaching  to  sinners." 

"All  right,  I  will ;  but,  by  Jove,  Dorrie !  what  a  pro- 
found little  theologian  you  are  getting  to  be !"  laugh- 
ingly returned  the  man  as,  with  a  caressing  hand,  he 
smoothed  back  the  golden  hair  from  her  forehead. 
"What  makes  you  bother  your  brain  with  such  perplex- 
ing questions?" 

"I  suppose  one  reason  is  because  I've  been  sick  so 
long  and  nobody  does  me  any  real  good.  Oh !  I 
shouldn't  have  said  that  to  you,  when  you  try  so 
hard,"  Dorrie  interposed,  flushing.  "But  I  like  to  talk 
about  such  things,  and  you  are  very  good  to  talk  with 
me.  Papa  used  to;  but,  lately,  he  doesn't  seem  to  like 
to.  You  ought  to  hear  Miss  Minturn,  though." 

"Miss  Minturn !"  repeated  Phillip  Stanley,  with  an 
inward  start. 

"Yes.  I  don't  believe  you  know  who  she  is.  She  is 
a  new  student,  and  she  is  just  lovely,"  said  Dorothy, 
with  animation. 

"Does  she  talk  with  you  about  these  things?"  in- 
quired Dr.  Stanley,  and  recalling  what  Katherine  had 


82  {CATHERINE'S 

told  him  regarding  having  been  forbidden  to  advance 
her  peculiar  views  while  she  was  a  student  at  Hilton. 

"I  never  heard  her  say  anything  about  what  we  have 
been  talking  of  to-day,"  Dorothy  replied.  "I'm  going 
to  ask  her,  though,  what  she  thinks,  sometime.  But 
papa  asked  her  some  questions  once  in  the  Sunday 
class,  and  her  ideas  about  God  and  the  way  people 
ought  to  live  are  beautiful.  She  has  been  to  see  me 
several  times,  and  she  always  brings  me  a  lovely  flower 
of  some  kind — a  rose  or  lily,  and  once  the  sweetest 
orchid;  only  one  at  a  time,  but  always  such  a  beauty. 
I  love  to  look  at  it  when  she  is  gone,  and  it  almost 
seems  as  if  she  had  left  part  of  herself  behind." 

"That  is  just  like  her  dainty  ladyship,"  Phillip 
Stanley  observed  to  himself,  and  Dorrie  continued : 

"Sometimes  others  have  been  here  when  she  has 
come,  and  other  times  I've  felt  too  weak  to  talk ;  but — 
it  is  very  strange! — I  never  have  that  tired  feeling  in 
my  back  when  she  is  here,  and  she  is  always  so  bright 
and  cheery  I  forget  the  pain  and  feel  so  happy  and 
— and  rested.  Oh !  must  you  go,  Uncle  Phillip  ?"  she 
concluded,  regretfully,  as  he  arose  and  took  up  his  hat. 

"Yes,  dear,  I've  made  you  a  long  call,  and  now  I 
really  must  get  back  to  the  office,"  he  said,  as  he  bent 
his  lips  to  hers  for  his  accustomed  farewell. 

The  girl  twined  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

"You  are  very  good  to  me,  Uncle  Phillip,  and  I  love 
you,"  she  murmured,  softly,  "and  when  you  go  away 
I  always  count  the  hours  'til  you  come  again." 

"Well !  well !  I  begin  to  think  I  am  a  person  of  con- 
siderable importance,"  he  rejoined,  in  a  playful  tone. 

"You    'begin    to   think,' "   she    retorted,    roguishly ; 


SHEAVES  83 

"haven't  you  ever  thought  it  before?  I'm  not  quite 
sure  that  you  are  as  modest  as  you  pretend  to  be.  But, 
Uncle  Phil— 

"Yes?" 

"Will  you  look  up  those  verses  and  tell  me  what  you 
think,  the  next  time  you  come  ?" 

"I  promise  you  I  will,  Dorrie;  and  now  an  revoir!" 

He  touched  the  bell  to  call  the  nurse,  then  waved  her 
a  last  good-by  and  quietly  left  the  room. 

Phillip  Stanley  did  not,  indeed,  "know  his  Bible 
very  well,"  and  had  spent  very  little  time  conning  its 
pages  since  starting  out  in  life  for  himself.  Like  many 
another  who  has  been  rigidly  reared  under  the  vague 
doctrines  of  "old  theology,"  he  had,  at  an  early  age, 
become  both  restive  and  skeptical.  This  state  of  mind 
had  grown  more  pronounced  as  he  had  advanced  in 
his  profession  and  been  brought  in  such  close  touch 
with  suffering  and  dying  humanity.  Thus  he  had  long 
since  ceased  to  attend  church,  and,  having  found  no 
comfort  \n  the  Scriptures — which  seemed  to  him  to 
portray  a  stern  dictator  and  relentless  judge  rather 
than  a  merciful  and  loving  Father — he  had  resolved  to 
live  his  life  as  nearly  in  accord  with  his  own  highest 
conception  of  honor  and  rectitude  as  possible,  become 
an  ornament  to  and  an  authority  in  his  profession,  do 
what  good  he  could  along  the  way,  and  not  puzzle  his 
brain  trying  to  solve  the  perplexing  problems  of  this 
life  and  of  an  unknowable  future. 

But  to-day,  on  his  way  back  to  the  city,  he  found 
himself  thinking  more  seriously  of  these  things  than 
for  many  years,  and,  upon  reaching  his  office  and  find- 
ing no  one  awaiting  him,  his  first  act  was  to  take  from 


84  KATHERINE'S 

an  upper  shelf  his  long  neglected  Bible  and  read  the 
passages  which  Dorothy  had  named  to  him. 

They  appealed  to  him  as  never  before.  Every  word 
bristled  with  a  new  meaning,  and,  becoming  deeply 
interested  after  reading  the  last  two  verses  of  Matthew, 
he  began  the  book  of  Mark  and  did  not  leave  it  until 
he  reached  the  end. 

"H-m!  I  begin  to  see  what  Mrs.  Minturn  founded 
some  of  her  arguments  upon,"  he  said,  as  the  striking 
of  the  clock  warned  him  of  his  dinner  hour.  "Well, 
I  wonder,  were  those  cases  'miracles' — just  super- 
natural wonders,  performed  merely  to  prove  Jesus'  au- 
thority to  preach  a  new  gospel  ?  or  were  they  'governed 
by  a  demonstrable  Principle/  as  she  affirms,  brought  to 
earth  for  suffering  humanity  to  learn  and  practice,  and 
so  be  redeemed  from  its  sin-cursed  bondage? 

"There  certainly  ought  to  have  been  a  panacea  pro- 
vided for  all  disease,"  he  resumed,  after  a  moment  of 
deep  thought.  "But  there  is  none  to-day — at  least 
materiel  mcdica  has  never  found  one,  and  that  is  a 
mortifying  fact  to  be  obliged  to  admit  after  over  four 
thousand  years  of  investigation  and  experiment.  Poor 
Dorrie !  I'd  really  like  to  make  a  test  of  her  case !" 

He  put  down  his  book  with  a  sigh  and  then  went  out 
to  his  evening  meal,  a  troubled  expression  on  his  hand- 
some face. 


SHEAVES  85 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Katherine  and  the  Junior  League. 

Soon  after  entering-  Hilton  Seminary,  Katherine  was 
invited,  as  was  customary,  to  become  a  member  of  the 
"Junior  League,"  a  igfccret  club  or  society  organized 
and  sustained  by  the  junior  class.  Its  object  was 
twofold.  First :  improvement,  to  keep  themselves  in- 
formed of  and  in  touch  with  current  events  and  litera- 
ture; and,  second:  sociability. 

But  it  was  hinted,  now  and  then,  by  some  of  the 
more  serious-minded  members,  that  "a  rollicking  good 
time"  had  more  attractions  for  the  majority  of  its  con- 
stituents than  anything  else. 

Their  meetings  were  held  once  a  fortnight,  when 
some  member  was  expected  to  read  a  paper  on  a  sub- 
ject previously  selected  by  a  committee  appointed  for 
that  purpose,  after  which  a  short  time  was  spent  in  a 
general  discussion  of  the  theme,  then  the  remainder  of 
the  evening  was  given  over  to  social  enjoyment;  or, 
occasionally,  to  "a  spread,"  which  is  so  dear  to  every 
boarding  school  girl's  heart. 

Twice  during  the  year  the  league  formally  enter- 
tained the  faculty  and  the  "Senior  League,"  a  similar 
organization,  which  as  often  returned  these  courtesies. 

Katherine  accepted  the  invitation  with  thanks,  and 
at  once  threw  herself  heartily  into  the  methods  em- 


86  KATHERINE'S 

ployed  to  entertain  the  club,  particularly  into  the  literary 
work,  always  carefully  preparing  herself  upon  the  sub- 
ject to  be  discussed.  But  she  soon  found  that  the  main 
object  of  the  organization  was  being  perverted,  the 
topics  being  superficially  written  up  and  argued,  except 
by  a  very  few.  Less  and  less  attention  was  being  de- 
voted to  improvement  and  more  to  a  good  time,  to- 
gether with  much  school  gossip,  until  the  meetings  were 
fast  becoming  a  farcec"**- 

She  deeply  regretted  this,  and  talked  it  over  with 
some  others  as  earnest  as  herself,  but  without  achieving 
any  satisfactory  results.  Upon  one  or  two  occasions 
she  gave  a  thoughtfully  prepared  synopsis  of  the  sub- 
ject, but  these  efforts  were  received  with  shrugs,  nudges 
and  significant  smiles  and  glances;  and,  while  no  one 
was  openly  discourteous  to  her,  it  was  evident  that, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  she  was  still  regarded  as  a  per- 
son to  be  shunned  even  by  her  own  club. 

One  evening,  on  making  her  appearance,  she  observed 
that  there  was  an  unusual  flutter  among  the  wilder 
members  of  the  league,  and  that  she  at  once  became 
the  object  of  their  curious  regard. 

The  exercises  progressed  as  usual  until  the  discus- 
sion was  over,  when,  as  was  the  custom,  the  president 
called  upon  the  chairman  of  the  literary  committee  to 
announce  the  topic  and  the  name  of  the  member  to 
treat  it  for  the  next  meeting. 

The  chairman  arose  and  said,  while  an  ominous  si- 
lence fell  upon  the  room  : 

"Miss  Minturn  has  been  appointed  to  give  us  a  paper 
for  our  next  gathering,  and  the  subject  chosen  is, 
'Christian  Science  and  Its  Transcendental  Tendency.'  " 


"  Miss  Minturn  has  been  appointed  to  give  us  a  paper  for  our  next 
gathering,  and  the  subject  chosen  is,  'Christian  Science.'" 

(See  page  86) 


SHEAVES  87 

An  audible  titter  ran  around  the  room  as  this  an- 
nouncement was  made,  and  every  eye  was  fastened 
upon  Katherine,  who  instantly  suspected  the  situation 
had  been  planned  for  the  sole  purpose  of  making  her 
uncomfortably  conspicuous  and  bringing  her  beloved 
Science  before  the  club  simply  to  be  ridiculed. 

She  was  naturally  quick-tempered,  though  years  of 
discipline  had  taught  her  how  to  hold  herself  well  in 
hand  upon  most  occasions.  But  now,  for  the  moment, 
her  whole  soul  arose  in  arms  and  was  ready  to  flash 
forth  in  fiery  indignation. 

She  flushed  crimson  and  a  dangerous  gleam  leaped 
into  her  usually  gentle  eyes,  while  she  trembled  from 
head  to  foot. 

"See !  it  has  hit  her  in  a  tender  spot !"  whispered 
Ollie  Grant  to  Sadie  Minot.  "Look  out,  now,  for  a 
tempest  from  Miss  Propriety !  Won't  it  be  fun  ?" 

But  the  unaccustomed  emotion  passed  almost  as 
quickly  as  it  had  come.  It  was  like  the  flash  of  sum- 
mer heat  that  is  followed  by  no  thunder.  Her  mo- 
mentary resentment  was  bravely  quelled,  and,  after  a 
brief  denial  of  error,  she  arose  to  her  feet,  the  flush  still 
hot  on  her  cheeks,  but  a  sunny  smile  parting  her  red 
lips  and  chasing  the  temper  from  her  eyes. 

"Lady  President  and  comrades,"  she  began,  bowing 
first  to  the  presiding  officer,  then  to  her  companions, 
and  there  was  not  the  slightest  evidence  of  anger  in  her 
sweetly  modulated  tones,  "there  is  nothing  that  I  love 
more  than  Christian  Science,  and  if  I  thought  you  also 
were  really  interested  in  it,  and  I  could,  consistently, 
give  you  some  information  regarding  it,  it  would  give 
me  great  pleasure  to  do  so.  But  you  are  not  interested 


88  KATHERINE'S 

in  it — you  do  not  believe  in  it;  many  of  you  think  it 
absurdly  transcendental,  as  your  topic  indicates.  Thus 
you  have  nothing  but  ridicule  for  it.  So  you  can  un- 
derstand that  what  is  very  sacred  to  me  I  could  not 
discuss  in  such  an  antagonistic  atmosphere.  Be- 
sides  " 

"Oh,  but  we  really  do  want  to  learn  something  about 
it,"  here  interposed  Ollie  Grant,  as  she  gave  Sadie  a 
nudge  with  her  elbow,  "and — and" — with  mock  de- 
mureness — "if  we  have  wrong  ideas  about  it,  why,  you 
can  perhaps  set  us  right." 

"I  am  sure  it  would  be  very  interesting,"  Clara  Follet 
observed,  with  a  sly  wink  at  her  nearest  neighbor ;  "it 
is  so — mysterious  and — creepy;  like  spiritualism,  you 
know." 

Katherine  had  seen  both  nudge  and  wink  ;  but  neither 
now  had  power  to  move  her  to  any  feeling  save  that  of 
compassion  for  the  thoughtless  offenders. 

"You  are  entirely  mistaken,  Miss  Follet,"  she  gently 
returned.  "Christian  Science  and  spiritualism  are  as 
far  removed  from  each  other  as  the  Poles.  But  I  re- 
peat, I  cannot  give  you  a  paper  on  the  subject  you  have 
assigned  me." 

"Do  I  understand,  Miss  Minturn,  that  you  absolutely 
refuse  to  respond  to  the  appointment?"  gravely  in- 
quired the  president,  while  whispered  comments  and 
an  excited  rustle  were  heard  from  various  parts  of 
the  room. 

"Miss  Walton,  I  must,"  said  Katherine,  firmly. 

"Do  you  know  the  penalty  of  such  a  refusal?"  the 
presiding  officer  queried,  while  Katherine  started  and 
colored  crimson  as  she  continued :  "Any  member  of 


SHEAVES  89 

the  league  refusing  to  comply  with  an  appointment 
made  by  its  committee  is  subject  to  expulsion." 

"Provided  there  is  no  good  reason  for  such  a  refusal, 
I  believe  the  by-law  reads,"  here  interposed  a  young 
lady  who  was  beginning  to  feel  sorry  for  Katherine, 
for  she  knew  that  she  was  simply  being  "made  game 
of"  by  those  who  held  her  religious  belief  in  derision. 

"Yes,  certainly.  If  you  can  give  a  good  and  suffi- 
cient reason  for  the  stand  you  have  taken,  Miss  Min- 
turn,  you  will,  of  course,  be  excused,"  the  president 
supplemented,  realizing  there  was  something  in  the 
atmosphere  which  she  did  not  understand,  as  she 
had  no  knowledge  of  the  plot  that  had  been  concocted 
by  the  mischief-loving  element  of  the  league. 

"I  think  I  have  already  given  a  good  reason,"  Kath- 
erine observed,  with  quiet  dignity ;  "Christian  Science  is 
my  religion,  and  I  have  been  asked  to  treat  it  as 
transcendentalism,  and — I  am  inclined  to  think — in  a 
perverted  sense  of  that  term.  Can  I  be  expected  to 
hold  my  religion  up  for  ridicule?  I  do  not  refuse  the 
appointment  to  write  a  paper;  it  is  the  subject  that 
I  decline." 

"I  claim  that  Miss  Minturn's  reason  is  'good  and 
sufficient,'  and  I  move  that  she  be  excused,"  said  Miss 
Clark,  the  young  lady  who  had  previously  spoken  in 
Katherine's  behalf. 

The  excitement  was  increasing,  and  the  president  was 
obliged  to  rap  vigorously  for  order  before  she  could 
make  herself  heard. 

"Does  anyone  second  Miss  Clark's  motion?"  she  in- 
quired. 

It  was  somewhat  timidly  seconded  by  a  weak  voice 


9o  KATHERINE'S 

from  one  corner  of  the  room ;  but  when  put  to  vote  the 
hands  were  three  to  one  against  it. 

Could  it  be  possible,  Katherine  asked  herself  in  sud- 
den dismay,  that  certain  members  of  the  league  were 
taking  this  way  to  get  rid  of  her?  Why,  then,  had 
they  invited  her  to  join  it  in  the  first  place  ? 

"It  seems,  Miss  Minturn,  that  you  cannot  be  ex- 
cused," Miss  Walton  observed,  with  a  deprecatory 
smile. 

Katherine  did  not  mean  to  be  driven  out  of  the  club 
in  such  an  underhanded  manner  if  she  could  avoid  it; 
neither  would  she  violate  her  conscience. 

"I  shall  be  obliged  to  maintain  my  position,  never- 
theless," she  responded,  after  a  moment  of  thought. 
Then  she  resumed,  in  a  tone  of  regret :  "And  since  the 
league  does  not  see  fit  to  release  me  because  of  my 
conscientious  scruples,  which,  it  seems  to  me,  should 
be  an  unquestionable  motive,  I  will  state  that  Prof. 
Seabrook,  who  also  does  not  favor  my  views,  has  en- 
joined me  to  silence  upon  the  subject  while  I  am  a 
student  at  Hilton." 

"Comrades,  that  settles  ihe  matter  without  further 
action  or  discussion,"  said  the  president,  bringing  her 
gavel  down  with  an  imperative  stroke;  for  this  last 
announcement  had  created  a  breezy  flutter  among  the 
mischief-brewers,  who  had  planned  to  have  "great 
sport"  a  fortnight  hence. 

"And  now,"  observed  Katherine,  again  rising  and 
addressing  the  chair  with  charming  frankness,  "I  stand 
ready  to  prepare  an  article  upon  any  other  subject 
which  the  committee  may  assign  me," 


SHEAVES  91 

"Is  the  committee  ready  with  another  topic?"  the 
president  inquired. 

That  body  conferred  together  for  several  minutes, 
after  which  the  chairman  stated  with  ill-concealed 
mirth,  which  appeared  to  be  contagious,  that  a  paper 
on  "Transcendentalism"  would  be  expected  from  Miss 
Minturn  a  fortnight  from  that  night. 

As  she  sat  down  titters  and  giggles  were  audible  in 
various  parts  of  the  room,  and  Miss  Walton's  mallet 
again  fell  heavily  upon  the  table,  while  she  looked  both 
distressed  and  indignant. 

Before  she  could  speak,  however,  a  tall,  handsome 
girl  sprang  to  her  feet  and  turned  to  her  with  blazing 
eyes. 

"Lady  President,"  she  began,  in  a  clear,  ringing  tone, 
"I  rise  to  express  my  disapproval  of  the  proceedings 
of  this  business  meeting.  While  I  am  not  at  all  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  subject  that  has  been  broached  here  this 
evening,  I  believe  in  fair  play,  and  that  an  insult  offered 
to  anyone  because  of  her  religious  belief  should  not  for 
a  moment  be  tolerated.  I  shall  feel  justified  in  with- 
drawing from  the  league  if  such  discourteous  treatment 
is  continued.  And" — glancing  at  Katherine — "I  also 
wish  to  express  my  admiration  for  Miss  Minturn  for  so 
bravely  standing  by  her  colors.  She  might  have 
shielded  herself  behind  Prof.  Seabrook's  injunction  in 
the  first  place  and  so  settled  the  matter  at  once ;  but  she 
made  it  a  question  of  conscience  for  a  cause  that  she 
loves,  and  was  not  afraid  to  say  so.  And  now,  I  move 
that,  if  the  last-named  topic  is  distasteful  to  her,  she  be 
allowed  to  choose  one  for  herself." 

A  profound  hush  had  fallen  upon  the  room  during 


92  KATHERINE'S 

this  spirited  speech,  and  at  its  close  there  was  a  vigor- 
ous applause  from  a  few  of  her  listeners,  showing 
something  of  a  reaction  of  feeling  in  favor  of  Kath- 
erine,  who  observed,  however,  with  a  pang  at  her 
heart,  that  her  roommate,  Sadie,  was  not  among  the 
number. 

"Is  Miss  Felton's  motion  seconded?"  queried  the 
president,  with  a  smile  and  nod  of  approval  at  that 
young  lady. 

Katherine,  who  had  been  doing  some  rapid  thinking 
during  the  last  few  minutes,  was  on  her  feet  again  be- 
fore anyone  could  speak. 

"Lady  President,  pray  allow  me  to  thank  Miss  Pel- 
ton  most  heartily  for  her  kind  espousal  of  my  cause," 
she  said,  bestowing  a  luminous  smile  upon  her  new 
friend,  "but  I  would  be  very  sorry  to  have  any  un- 
pleasantness arise  in  the  league,  and  may  I  ask  that 
no  further  action  be  taken  in  the  matter?  I  know 
that  many  people  have  a  mistaken  idea  of  what  Chris- 
tian Science  is,  and  regard  it  and  its  adherents  with 
feelings  that  are  regretted  when  they  become  more 
enlightened  on  the  subject.  And  now" — a  mirthful 
gleam  in  her  brown  eyes — "let  me  add  that  I  cheer- 
fully accept  the  last-named  subject  assigned  me,  and 
will  do  my  best  to  elucidate  it  for  the  benefit  of  the 
club  at  our  next  meeting." 

As  she  concluded  and  sat  down  there  was  another 
round  of  applause,  more  pronounced  this  time ;  while 
some  of  the  ringleaders  in  the  mischief  looked  as  if 
they  felt  that  the  tables  were  being  turned  against 
themselves. 

The  president  appeared  immensely  relieved  to  have 


SHEAVES  93 

what  had  threatened  to  be  a  stormy  scene  so  tactfully 
smoothed  over,  and,  as  there  was  no  further  business 
to  be  transacted,  she  gave  the  signal  for  formalities  to 
cease  and  sociability  to  begin. 

Katherine  at  once  became  the  center  of  an  admiring 
and  condoling  group,  whose  attitude  towards  her  had 
undergone  a  radical  change  since  the  brave  champion- 
ship of  Miss  Felton,  who  was  a  power  not  only  in  her 
own  class  but  in  the  whole  school. 

Katherine  greeted  everyone  graciously,  but  met  all 
expressions  of  sympathy  and  indignation  with  laughing 
protests,  and  as  soon  as  she  could  do  so  without  ap- 
pearing unappreciative,  excused  herself,  upon  the  plea 
that  she  must  look  over  a  lesson  before  the  retiring 
bell  rang,  and  slipped  away  to  her  room. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  a  few  bitter  tears 
forced  themselves  over  her  hot  cheeks  when  she  found 
herself  alone,  for  she  had  been  sorely  tried.  The  strug- 
gle with  her  momentary  feeling  of  indignation  and  a 
sense  of  personal  injury  had  been  severe,  while  she  had 
also  been  deeply  hurt  by  Sadie's  evident  sympathy  with 
those  who  were  in  the  plot  against  her. 

But  she  resolutely  set  herself  at  work  to  conquer 
these  emotions  and  then  vigorously  attacked  the  un- 
learned lesson,  after  which  she  retired,  but  not  to  sleep, 
for  thought  was  busy  with  what  had  occurred  and  with 
plans  for  the  next  league  meeting. 

Sadie  did  not  put  in  an  appearance  until  some  time 
after  the  gas  had  been  turned  off,  when  she  silently 
undressed  and  crept  into  bed,  and,  shortly  after,  Kath- 
erine fell  asleep. 


94  KATHERINE'S 

Some  hours  later  she  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
what  sounded  like  a  moan  of  pain. 

She  sat  up  in  bed  and  listened ;  but,  hearing  nothing 
more,  thought  she  must  have  been  mistaken,  and  was 
about  to  lie  down  again,  when,  from  beneath  the  covers 
of  the  bed,  in  the  opposite  corner  of  the  room,  she 
was  sure  she  heard  her  roommate  groan. 

"Sadie!  what  is  the  matter?"  she  inquired. 

There  was  no  verbal  answer,  but  another  moan  smote 
upon  her  ears. 

Katherine  sprang  out  of  bed  and  went  to  her. 

''Sadie,  tell  me,  what  is  the  trouble?"  she  said,  laying 
a  gentle  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"Oh,  I  have  a  horrible  toothache,"  she  girl  replied, 
adding :  "I  did  not  mean  to  wake  you,  but  the  pain  is 
simply  unbearable,"  and,  throwing  back  the  covers, 
she  sat  up  and  rocked  to  and  fro  in  agony. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you  ?"  Katherine  kindly  inquired, 
while  she  mentally  declared  that  "God  never  made  pain, 
nor  man  to  suffer  pain." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  helpless  rejoinder.  "I 
think  there  is  a  bottle  of  oil  of  cloves  somewhere  in  my 
upper  drawer,  if  you  will  find  it  for  me." 

Katherine  lighted  the  candle,  kept  for  emergencies, 
and  searched  for  the  desired  remedy  amid  the  hetero- 
geneous collection  in  the  drawer,  but  failed  to  find  it. 
Then  she  looked  in  various  other  places  suggested  by 
Sadie,  with  the  same  result,  greatly  to  the  girl's  disap- 
pointment. 

"Oh,  I  remember — I  lent  it  to  Carrie  Hill  last  week ! 
What  shall  I  do?"  wailed  the  sufferer  in  a  voice  of 
despair;  for  Miss  Hill  roomed  at  the  top  of  the  op- 


SHEAVES  95 

posite  wing,  and  just  at  that  moment  the  clock  in  the 
tower  of  the  building  struck  the  hour  of  three. 

She  was  now  wrought  up  to  a  state  of  excessive 
nervous  excitement,  and  it  looked  as  if  there  would  be 
no  more  sleep  for  either  of  them  that  night. 

"Haven't  you  something — some  camphor  or  salts, 
Katherine?  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer,"  and  Sadie 
was  now  sobbing  from  mingled  nervousness  and  suf- 
fering. 

"No,  dear.  I  never  use  anything  of  the  kind,"  Kath- 
erine replied. 

"Do  you  never  put  anything  in  a  tooth  when  it 
aches  ?" 

"No." 

"Do  you  ever  have  the  toothache?" 

"I  used  to  when  I  was  a  child;  very  seldom  now." 

"What  do  you  do  to  stop  it?"  was  the  impatient 
query,  accompanied  by  a  prolonged  groan. 

"Treat  it  mentally." 

"Shucks !"  and  Miss  Minot  threw  herself  violently 
back  upon  her  pillows  with  an  air  of  personal  injury 
mingled  with  supreme  contempt,  while  Katherine  kept 
on  working  for  harmony  in  her  own  thought. 

"Katherine,  I  simply  cannot  stand  this  until  morn- 
ing," the  girl  cried  again,  after  a  minute  or  two  of  forced 
endurance,  as  a  fresh  paroxysm  seized  her. 

"Shall  I  go  to  the  matron  and  ask  her  for  some- 
thing for  you?"  Katherine  inquired. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  it  seems  a  shame  to  send  you 
way  down  to  her  at  this  unearthly  hour.  It  is  bad 
enough  to  keep  you  awake,"  said  Sadie,  remorsefully. 

"Never  mind  me,  dear.    I  am  willing  to  do  anything 


96  KATHERINE'S 

you  wish,  and  I'm  not  afraid  to  go  anywhere  in  the 
building,"  was  the  kind  response. 

"Perhaps  if  I  had  some  water  to  hold  in  my  mouth  it 
might  relieve  me,"  Sadie  suggested. 

Katherine  brought  her  a  glass  and  she  filled  her 
mouth,  but  expelled  the  water  almost  instantly,  as  the 
bare  and  sensitive  nerve  rebelled  against  such  radical 
treatment. 

"Can't  you  do  something?"  she  gasped,  clutching 
her  companion's  arm  with  a  spasmodic  grip. 

"I'll  go  to  Miss  Williams,  or  some  of  the  girls 
for "  Katherine  began. 

"No,  I  can't  bear  to  make  a  stir — oh,  heavens !  oh ! 
treat  me — your  way — anything — anything  to  stop  this 
unbearable  torture!"  and  Sadie  buried  her  face  in  her 
pillow  to  smother  the  moans  she  could  not  repress. 

"Indeed  I  will,"  said  Katherine,  with  a  heart-throb 
of  thankfulness  for  the  appeal ;  and,  dropping  her  face 
upon  her  hands,  she  went  to  work  with  all  her  under- 
standing for  the  sufferer. 

Ten  minutes  passed;  then  it  seemed  as  if  the  inter- 
vals between  the  moans  grew  longer.  Another  five 
minutes  and  she  was  sure  that  the  hand  upon  her  arm 
was  relaxing  its  convulsive  grasp.  Not  long  after  the 
restless  form  grew  still,  the  hot  hand  on  her  arm  slipped 
down  upon  the  bed,  and  when  the  clock  in  the  tower 
struck  the  half  hour  after  three,  the  regular  breathing 
of  the  girl  told  of  quiet  and  restful  sleep. 

But  Katherine  continued  to  work  for  several  min- 
utes longer,  then  stole  softly  to  her  own  couch,  where 
she  also  was  soon  locked  in  slumber,  and  neither  awoke 


SHEAVES  97 

again  until  the  rising  bell  rang  its  imperative  summons 
to  the  duties  of  a  new  day. 

Katherine  was  nearly  dressed  before  her  roommate 
manifested  any  inclination  to  rise.  She  looked  bright 
and  serene,  however,  and  there  was  no  swelling  or 
other  evidence  of  the  previous  night's  broken  rest  and 
suffering. 

"I  believe  I'm  all  right,  honey,"  she  thoughtfully  ob- 
served, after  watching  Katherine's  operations  in  silence 
for  a  while. 

"Of  course  you  are,"  was  the  cheery  response,  with 
a  happy  heart-throb  at  the  old  familiar  form  of  address. 

"That  was  a  right  smart  rumpus,  though,"  Sadie 
added,  in  her  Southern  phraseology. 

"The  less  said  about  it  the  better,"  was  the  brief 
reply. 

"Why?" 

"Because  it  is  nothing  now,  and  you  neither  need  nor 
wish  to  live  it  over." 

"I  reckon  I  don't.  But,  do  you  believe  you  cured 
me?" 

"I  know  that  I  did  not;  but  I  also  know  that  God 
healed  you." 

"But  you  did  something." 

"Yes — what  I  did  was — well,  you  may  call  it  prayer, 
if  you  like.  But  I  think  we  must  not  talk  about  it 
because  of  Prof.  Seabrook's  command,  which  I  am 
inclined  to  think  I  may  have  already  broken  in  the  let- 
ter if  not  in  the  spirit,"  said  Katherine,  gravely. 

"Well — I  don't — know.  It  all  seems  very  queer  to 
me !"  Sadie  observed,  reflectively,  as  she  slipped  out  of 


98  KATHERINE'S 

bed  and  began  to  dress.  "I  wouldn't  have  believed  I 
could  feel  so  well  this  morning  though.  I'm  as  fresh 
as  a  daisy,  and  my  face  isn't  at  all  swollen.  I  can't  un- 
derstand it.  I'm  inclined  to  think  that — after  all,  the 
ache  just  ached  itself  out  and  left  of  its  own  accord." 

Katherine  smiled  faintly  but  did  not  pursue  the  sub- 
ject. 

"I'm  downright  obliged  to  you,  Katherine,  for  being 
so  kind  and  patient  with  me  in  the  night,"  the  girl 
resumed,  after  a  few  moments  of  silence;  "and — 
honey,"  suddenly  facing  her  and  looking  her  straight  in 
the  eyes,  though  her  cheeks  were  crimson,  "I  feel 
mighty  mean  over  our  tiff  the  other  day,  and — and 
about  what  happened  last  night  in  the  league." 

"Never  mind,  Sadie — it  is  all  past  now "  Kath- 
erine began. 

"But  I  shall  mind;  I'm  going  to  eat  the  whole  of 
my  humble  pie,"  interposed  Sadie,  between  a  laugh  and 
a  sob,  "for  I — I  was  in  the  plot  with  the  others.  You 
see,  I  hadn't  quite  gotten  over  the  other  affair, 
and " 

"But  you  have  now,  Sadie?"  Katherine  interrupted, 
wistfully. 

"How  could  I  help  it  when  you've  been  so  perfectly 
sweet?  Only  I  want " 

"Well,  then  I'm  happy !"  cried  Katherine,  with  a 
joyous  laugh,  "and  I'm  not  going  to  let  you  eat  any 
more  'humble  pie,'  for — the  North  and  the  South  are 
reunited,  and  that  cancels  everything." 

"Katherine,  you  are  the  dearest "  But  Sadie's 

voice  broke  suddenly,  and  to  cover  her  emotion  she 


SHEAVES  99 

bounded  into  the  closet  and  began  a  vigorous  search  for 
some  needed  article. 

There  were  fair  winds  and  cloudless  skies  after  that, 
and  nothing  more  was  heard  from  the  defective  tooth, 
which,  later,  was  filled  and  preserved  for  future  use- 
fulness. 


ioo  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Transcendentalism   as   Elucidated  for    the    Junior 
League. 

The  following  two  weeks  were  unmarked  by  any- 
thing of  special  interest,  and  Katherine  found  her  time 
fully  occupied  in  attending  to  her  daily  duties  and  pre- 
paring for  the  next  league  meeting. 

For  a  moment,  after  the  second  subject,  "Transcen- 
dentalism," had  been  assigned  her,  she  felt  "old  Adam" 
beginning  to  stir  resentfully  again,  for  she  was  im- 
pressed that,  when  the  topic  came  up  for  discussion, 
certain  members  of  the  club  intended  to  make  her  the 
target  for  more  sharpshooting. 

But  the  struggle  was  short,  for  the  monitor  within 
had  declared  that  "God's  image  and  likeness  could  not 
reflect  or  manifest  anything  but  love ;"  when,  like  a 
flash,  had  come  the  inspiration  to  treat  the  subject 
from  a  humorous  point  of  view.  She  knew  that  the 
committee  had  used  the  term  in  its  perverted  sense, 
so  she  would  meet  them  on  their  own  ground,  make 
an  hour  of  fun  for  the  league,  and  thus,  perchance,  dis- 
arm the  aggressive  ones  and  create  a  better  feeling 
towards  herself. 

As  these  thoughts  coursed  rapidly  through  her  mind 
during  Miss  Felton's  gallant  defense,  she  became  en- 
thused over  the  idea,  hence  the  mirthful  gleam  in  her 


SHEAVES  101 

eyes  when  she  arose  and  accepted  the  topic,  and  thus 
tactfully  "poured  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters." 

In  the  quiet  of  her  own  room,  after  retiring,  her 
plan  began  to  take  a  more  definite  form,  and,  before 
the  week  was  out,  she  had  arranged  her  programme  for 
the  evening. 

She  found  that  she  would  be  unable  to  carry  it  out 
alone,  and  so  confided  her  scheme  to  Sadie,  Miss  Wal- 
ton, the  president,  and  Miss  Felton,  whom  she  now  re- 
garded as  stanch  friends.  They  were  delighted  with  it 
and  heartily  lent  her  their  assistance  in  perfecting  it. 

It  became  evident,  however,  as  the  day  for  the  meet- 
ing drew  on  apace,  that  more  than  usual  interest  was 
centered  in  the  event,  for,  upon  two  or  three  occasions, 
Katherine  came  suddenly  upon  a  group  of  the  mem- 
bers in  earnest  conversation,  which  was  instantly  cut 
short,  or  abruptly  changed,  when  her  presence  was 
observed.  Jennie  Wild,  who  was  very  fond  of  her, 
also  gave  her  a  hint  that  something  unusual  was  going 
on. 

"Miss  Minturn,  what's  the  fun  that's  brewing  in  the 
Junior  League?"  she  inquired,  as  she  encountered 
Katherine  in  one  of  the  halls  a  couple  of  days  previous 
to  the  meeting. 

"Is  there  fun  brewing?"  she  inquired,  evasively,  and 
wondering  if,  by  any  possibility,  her  own  scheme  had 
become  known. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  there  is,  for  I've  heard  some  of  the 
juniors  talking  about  a  'great  time'  that  is  on  the  tapis 
for  the  next  meeting;  and — and  your  name  was  men- 
tioned, too,"  Jennie  concluded,  giving  her  a  curious 
glance. 


102  KATHERINE'S 

Katherine  flushed  and  looked  perplexed ;  but  she  felt 
sure  that  her  own  secret  was  safe,  for  it  had  always 
been  discussed  behind  locked  doors,  and  all  concerned 
were  too  interested  in  the  success  of  it  to  betray  her 
confidence. 

"I  have  no  knowledge  of  anything  outside  of  my  own 
province,"  she  replied.  "I  am  to  read  a  paper  before 
the  league  on  Tuesday  evening." 

"Oh,  say!  what's  the  subject?"  Jennie  queried, 
eagerly. 

"Don't  you  know,  dear,  it  is  a  rule,  in  both  the 
Junior  and  Senior  Leagues,  that  no  information  re- 
garding what  occurs  in  their  meetings  can  be  made 
public  without  a  vote  of  the  members?"  Katherine 
smilingly  inquired. 

"Yes;  but  I'll  never  tell,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  confi- 
dential tone. 

"No,  I  am  sure  you  will  not,"  was  the  laughing  re- 
tort. 

"Oh,  you  mean  you  won't  give  me  a  chance,"  said 
Jennie,  with  a  good-natured  grimace.  "Well,  whatever 
the  subject  may  be,  I  am  sure  the  paper  will  be  O.  K." 

"Thank  you  for  your  confidence  in  my  ability,  and, 
sometime,  perhaps,  you  may  be  enlightened  regarding 
what  is  at  present  a  profound  secret,"  returned  Kath- 
erine, encouragingly. 

"Well,  perhaps  that  is  what  those  girls  were  talking 
about,  but  I'm  pretty  sure  there's  more  than  that  in 
the  wind,"  Jennie  thoughtfully  observed.  "But"— all 
on  the  alert  again — "I've  found  out  that  the  sophs 
are  planning  to  kick  up  a  bobbery,  too " 


SHEAVES  103 

"Oh,  Jennie!"  interposed  her  companion,  with 
laughing  reproof. 

"Yes,  I  know;  that  is  awful  slang.  But  what  can 
you  expect  of  a  'freshie'  ?  I've  got  to  make  the  most  of 
my  time,  too,  you  know,  for  when  I  get  to  be  a  junior 
I'll  have  to  begin  the  'prune  and  prism'  act,"  retorted 
the  girl  with  a  roguish  wink.  "Then" — suddenly 
straightening  herself,  drawing  down  the  corners  of  her 
mouth,  crossing  her  eyes,  and  assuming  the  air  of  a 
would-be  prude — "the  prospective  infraction  of  law 
and  order  would  have  to  be  decorously  stated  some- 
thing like  this :  ahem  !  'Those  irrepressible,  irresponsi- 
ble and  notorious  sophomores  are  secretly  preparing  to 
engage  in  exceedingly  demoralizing,  mischievous  and 
reprehensible  behavior,  calculated  to  produce  an  un- 
pleasant state  of  perturbation  in  the  atmosphere  of  our 
household,  inoculate  a  spirit  of  anarchy  in  their  fel- 
lows, and  detract  from  the  dignity  of  our  honored  in- 
stitution.' How's  that  for  high?" 

"Oh,  I  believe  you  are  rightly  named  'Wild  Jennie' !" 
cried  Katherine,  laughing  heartily,  for  the  girl  was 
irresistible  in  her  drollery. 

"All  the  same,"  continued  Miss  Mischief,  resuming 
her  accustomed  vivacity,  "they  really  are  up  to  some- 
thing that  will  give  the  teachers  a  tremendous  night- 
mare one  of  these  fine  nights.  You  just  watch  out, 
Miss  Minturn — I've  only  got  an  inkling  of  the  plot,  but 
it's  great,  and  I'm  going  to  be  on  hand  to  see  it,  even 
if  I  can't  be  in  it." 

"Look  out,  dear,  that  you  do  not  get  involved  in 
something  that  you  will  be  sorry  for  afterwards,"  cau- 
tioned Katherine. 


io4  KATHERINE'S 

"I'll  look  out  for  number  one — never  you  fear;  but" 
— with  a  wise  nod — "you  just  keep  your  eyes  peeled 
about  your  own  affairs.  Ta-ta !"  and,  with  a  wave  of 
her  hand,  the  girl  hurried  away,  merrily  whistling  a 
popular  air  as  she  went. 

"I  wonder  if  those  girls  are  planning  some  prac- 
tical joke  upon  me  for  Tuesday  evening!"  Katherine 
said  to  herself,  as  she  went  on  up  to  her  room. 

Taking  what  Jennie  had  told  her  in  connection  with 
what  she  herself  had  seen  and  heard,  she  was  inclined 
to  think  that  there  might  be  "something  brewing" ; 
but,  as  there  appeared  to  be  no  way  to  solve  the  mys- 
tery, she  wisely  decided  not  to  dwell  upon  it,  although 
she  determined  that  she  would  be, on  the  qui  rive  and 
not  caught  napping. 

Tuesday  evening  came.  The  league  convened  at  the 
usual  hour,  and  that  something  of  more  than  wonted 
interest  was  anticipated  was  evinced  by  the  fact  that 
every  member  of  the  club  was  promptly  on  hand,  while 
curious  glances  were  bent,  and  comments  made,  upon 
a  curtain  which  had  been  stretched  across  one  end  of 
the  room. 

After  the  meeting  was  formally  opened  the  president 
stated  that,  before  the  reading  and  discussion  of  the 
paper,  there  would  be  a  short  entertainment,  which 
had  been  specially  prepared  for  the  occasion. 

This  announcement  met  with  vigorous  applause,  and 
an  air  of  eager  interest  at  once  pervaded  the  audience. 

Miss  Walton  waited  patiently  until  quiet  was  re- 
stored, then  resumed : 

"First  I  will  read  an  original  conundrum  which  is 


SHEAVES  105 

propounded  by  one  of  our  members,  and  which  you 
are  requested  to  solve." 

Everyone  was  at  once  on  the  alert. 

"My  first,"  read  the  chairman,  "is  a  state  of  oblivion. 

"My  second  is  what  comes  to  all  things  mundane. 

"My  third  appertains  to  articulation,  to  a  form  of 
surgery,  and  to  a  profession. 

"My  fourth  is  applied  to  certain  theories  and  fanat- 
ical tenets. 

"My  whole  is  a  term  employed  to  designate  a  cer- 
tain form  of  philosophy  which  is  also  often  miscon- 
strued and  misapplied." 

As  Miss  Walton  was  about  to  lay  down  her  paper 
she  was  asked  to  read  the  conundrum  again,  which  she 
did,  while  pencils  were  busy  taking  notes ;  then  she 
observed : 

"Before  the  answer  is  called  for  we  are  to  have  a 
charade,  which  has  also  been  prepared  by  a  member 
of  our  club,  after  which  you  will  please  give  your  so- 
lutions before  Miss  Minturn  reads  her  paper." 

A  bell  now  tinkled  faintly,  and  the  mysterious  cur- 
tain was  raised,  revealing  a  prettily  furnished  room 
and,  conspicuous  in  a  reclining  chair,  there  lay  a  young 
lady  apparently  asleep,  while  two  others,  wearing  black 
dominoes  and  lace  masks,  attempted  to  arouse  her. 
Their  efforts  proved  ineffectual,  however,  although  she 
was  pinched,  shaken,  commanded  to  awake,  and  even 
made  to  stand  upon  her  feet.  But  nothing  availed ;  she 
was  seemingly  oblivious  of  everything. 

"Alas!   it   is   of   no   use,"    solemnlv   observed   one 


io6  KATHERINE'S 

domino  to  the  other,  who  sighed  heavily,  and  mourn- 
fully shook  her  head,  and  the  curtain  was  rung  down. 

A  moment  later  it  went  up  again.  No  one  was  now 
in  the  room,  but  a  short  piece  of  rope  dangled  from 
one  arm  of  the  chair. 

The  third  scene  revealed  an  office.  On  a  table  lay  a 
number  of  small  instruments,  a  lot  of  loose  teeth,  also 
a  couple  of  full  sets.  A  lady  was  seated  in  a  chair, 
and  beside  her  stood  a  gentleman  (?)  holding  aloft  in 
one  hand  a  pair  of  forceps,  in  which  there  gleamed  a 
single  tooth,  while  with  the  other  he  extended  a  glass 
of  water  to  his  patient,  remarking  in  a  suave,  profes- 
sional tone: 

"It  is  all  over,  madam — a  very  successful  operation. 
Rinse  your  mouth,  please,  and  then  we  will  look  at  the 
others,"  whereupon  the  curtain  fell. 

The  fourth  scene  showed  the  same  room  in  which 
the  first  act  had  been  given.  In  a  low  rocker  sat  a 
spinster  of  uncertain  age,  very  prim  as  to  attitude  and 
attire,  her  face  partially  concealed  by  a  profusion  of 
corkscrew  curls  that  dangled  from  her  temples.  She 
appeared  to  be  absorbed  in  reading,  while  there  were 
piles  of  books  on  the  table  at  her  side,  on  chairs,  and 
were  also  strewn  promiscuously  about  the  floor. 

Presently  a  colored  servant  entered  the  room.  A 
spotless  kerchief  was  folded  about  her  expansive  shoul- 
ders; a  bright  red  bandanna  was  coiled  around  her 
woolly  head,  and  a  long,  blue  and  white  checked  apron 
was  tied  about  her  ample  waist. 

She  was  a  typical,  full-blooded  negress,  and  shuffled 
into  the  room  in  true  darky  style,  but  with  signs  of  dis- 
tress and  one  black  hand  covering  her  right  eye. 


SHEAVES  107 

"Well,  Dinah,  is  anything  wanted?"  demanded  the 
spinster,  but  without  glancing  up  from  her  book. 

"Y'sm,  honey;  I'se  done  got  sumpin'  in  m'  eye.  I 
has  sho'." 

"Come  here  and  let  me  look  at  it,"  said  her  mistress, 
reluctantly  laying  her  book  aside  and  taking  a  pencil 
from  the  table. 

Dinah  knelt  before  the  woman,  who  made  a  careful 
examination  of  the  suffering  member. 

"I  see  it !"  she  said ;  "don't  move  and  I'll  get  it. 
There !" — carefully  removing  something  with  a  corner 
of  her  immaculate  handkerchief — "see?" 

"Y'sm ;  thank'e,  Miss  Julia.  Yah  !  yah !  what  a  li'l 
spec  to  make  such  a  rumpus !  Looks  like  de  Bible 
'mote,'  but,  golly !  it  done  feel  mo'  like  de  'beam.'  Yah ! 
yah !  yah !"  laughed  the  negress,  revealing  two  rows  of 
dazzling  teeth  to  an  appreciative  audience  as  she  labo- 
riously struggled  to  her  feet. 

"Feel  all  right  now,  aunty  ?"  queried  the  spinster,  as 
she  carefully  refolded  her  handkerchief. 

"Y'sm,  y'sm ;  I'm  obleeg'd  to  'e,  Miss  Julia.     Lor' ! 
rubbing  her   knees   and   groaning,   "de   rumatism   do 
work  de  mischief  wi'  dese  yere  po'  ole  bones."     But 
Miss  Julia  had  again  become  absorbed  in  her  book  and, 
apparently,  did  not  hear. 

"Got  another  new  book,  Miss  Julia?"  queried  Dinah, 
after  watching  her  mistress  in  silence  for  a  moment. 

"No,  Dinah,"  replied  the  spinster,  lifting  a  beatific 
glance  and  smile  to  the  ceiling,  "I  am  still  engaged 
with  my  'Philosophical,  Psychological  and  Theosoph- 
ical  Research.' " 


io8  KATHERINE'S 

"Lor' !"  and  Dinah  rolled  her  eyes  with  an  awe-struck 
look  over  the  audience.  "I  'spec'  some  day,  honey, 
you's  so  uplifted,  you'll  go  soarin'  up  inter  de  clouds 
and  outer  sight,  straight  'ter  kingdom  come " 

"Dinah !  I  think  it  is  time  you  were  giving  your 
attention  to  your  dinner,"  interposed  Miss  Julia,  in  a 
lofty  tone. 

"Y'sm;  I's  gwine — I  sho'ly  is'm,"  retorted  Dinah, 
spiritedly,  as  she  straightened  herself  and  turned  with 
a  resentful  flirt  of  her  skirts  to  obey.  Then  glancing 
back  over  her  shoulder  and  showing  her  white  teeth 
in  a  broad  grin,  she  added:  "I's  gwine  ter  'gage  in 
m'  soupy-logical,  lamby-logical,  pie-o-logical  research ; 
y'sm,  sho !"  and,  striking  a  superior  attitude,  she  cake- 
walked  off  the  stage  with  a  vigorous  stride  and  regard- 
less of  'ole  bones'  or  'rumatism';  and  the  curtain  was 
rung  down  upon  an  audience  convulsed  with  merri- 
ment, while  a  voice  from  somewhere  cried  out : 

"Well  done,  Sadie !  yo'll  take  de  cake,  dis  time,  fer 
sho." 

Scene  five  showed  the  same  room,  the  same  spinster 
with  her  book  clasped  to  her  breast,  her  head  thrown 
back,  her  eyes  gazing  aloft  into  vacancy. 

"Oh,  ye  messengers  of  supereminent  light !  Oh,  ye 
soul-thrilling  angels  from  realms  supernal !  Draw 
nearer — unfold  your  celestial  wings  and  brood  tenderly 
o'er  the  aspirations  of  this  receptive  heart — this  heart 
already  upborne  on  waves  of  ecstasy  and  o'er-master- 
ing  joy ;  fulfill  its  psychic  dreams  and  lift  it  to  thine 
own  supersensible  heights" — she  breathed  in  an  exag- 
gerated stage  whisper  and  continued  her  vague,  vision- 
ary monologue,  or  extravaganza,  until  the  curtain  fell 


SHEAVES  109 

and  brought  down  the  house  again  with  enthusiastic 
applause. 

"Has  anyone  guessed  the  answer  to  the  conundrum, 
or  charade,  or  both?"  inquired  the  president  with 
mirthful  eyes  when  she  could  make  herself  heard. 

"Transcendentalism !"  cried  Clara  Follet,  wiping  the 
tears  from  her  cheeks.  "Dinah  gave  it  away  to  me 
with  her  'is'm'  and  her  'rumatism,'  and,  of  course,  the 
charade  was  the  key  to  the  conundrum." 

From  several  others  came  the  same  answer,  with 
the  various  hints  or  points  which  had  suggested  it. 

"And  now,"  continued  Miss  Walton,  "we  will  have 
the  paper  on  the  same  subject  from  Miss  Minturn,  who 
is  also  the  author  of  both  conundrum  and  charade." 

Again  there  was  a  vigorous  clapping  of  hands,  in 
the  midst  of  which  the  curtain  was  raised  and  Kath- 
erine  appeared  upon  the  stage,  in  her  spinster  attire, 
but  shorn  of  her  voluminous  corkscrew  curls. 

She  was  smiling,  and  rosy,  and  bowed  her  thanks 
for  the  generous  approval  of  her  efforts. 

As  she  unfolded  her  manuscript  an  expectant  hush 
fell  upon  her  audience,  and  she  observed  that  signifi- 
cant and  inquiring  glances  were  exchanged  between 
some  of  the  members  of  the  league. 

"The  paper  which  I  have  prepared,"  she  began,  "may 
not  prove  to  be  just  what  the  club  may  have  expected 
from  me ;  but  it  will  at  least  show  that  I  have  given  the 
subject  assigned  me  some  thought. 


"Once  on  a  time — 'twas  not  so  very  long  ago — 
Miss  Puff  craved  something  of  Philosophy  to  know, 
And,  with  proofs  of  culture  armed  and  high  position, 
To  a  Summer  School  of  Sages  sought  admission. 


no  KATHERINE'S 

"With  inspiration  rare,  she  here  absorbed  her  fill 
Of  ologies   galore,   and   conned   them   o'er,   until 
Her  wearied  brain  grew  dazed  beyond  expression ; 
But,  of  this  sad  fact,  Miss  Puff  made  no  confession. 

"Ontology  came  first,  with  arguments  profound, 
With   language  mystical,  the  wisest  to  confound ; 
Physics  took  the  platform  next,  to  claim  discussion. 
And  Metaphysics  foll'wing  near  caused  concussion. 

"Cosmology!  Phrenology!  what  charmed  lore! 
What  depths  profound !  how  high  her  aspirations  soar ! 
Tidbits  of  sweetness  for  future  delectation. 
Ah!  but  could  she  give  a  lucid  explication? 

"Theosophy !   Psychology !  transcendent  themes ! 
Glide  softly  in  upon  her  philosophic  dreams : 
'Till  soul  upborne  to  realms  of  ecstasy  sublime, 
Earth's  vanities  grow  dim  upon  the  shores  of  time. 

"But,  lo!  now  hydra-head  Theology  appears 
To  shatter  dreams  and  chill  her  heart  with  nameless  fears, 
For  Sage  and  Seer  spare  not  in  sharp  dissection, 
'Till  poor  Puff,  alas !  no  longer  makes  connection. 

"But,  all  the  same,  'twas  lovely  to  'philosophize !' 
It  mattered  not  if  she  were  wise,  or — otherwise ; 
Or  deeply  versed  in  themes  on  which  the  Sages  dote, 
Could  she  but  keep  on  transcendental  waves  afloat. 

"And  so,  at  length,  the  Summer  School  drew  to  a  close. 
Home  went  Miss  Puff,  well  primed,  to  smatter  and  to  pose ; 
Lightly  soar  on  clouds  of  blissful  exaltation, 
And  air  her  fads,  perchance  (?)  in  some  smart  publication. 

"Howe'er,  dear  friends,  Miss  Puff's  career  was  very  brief. 
Like  all  pretentious  frauds,  she  shortly  came  to  grief; 
She  was  found  out,  you  know,  and  took  a  strange  belief 
Which  none  could  heal,  and  faded  like  a  leaf. 
Then,  slyly  fled  the  town ! — was  never  seen  again, 
Though  faithful  search  was  made  o'er  mountain,  moor  and  fen. 

"The  claim  ?     Ah !  that  begat  long  medical  debate ; 
But  finally,  as  I  am  authorized  to  state — 
For  all  things  mystical  must  have  some  kind  of  name, 
And  there's  no  better  phrase  to  chronicle  the  same — 
'Twas — the  learned  doctors  vowed — abnormal  mentalism, 
The  outgrowth  of  her  fads  and  Transcendentalism!" 


SHEAVES  in 

[Catherine  made  her  bow  as  she  concluded  and 
slipped  behind  the  scenes.  But  the  applause  was  be- 
yond anything  she  had  yet  received  and  was  kept  up, 
with  cries  of  "come  out,"  "come  out,"  until  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  reappear,  which  she  did  with  flushed 
cheeks  and  shining  eyes. 

"Comrades,  I  thank  you  all  for  your  hearty  apprecia- 
tion and  commendation,"  she  said,  when  quiet  was 
restored.  "It  occurred  to  me  that  a  humorous  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  might  be  more  enjoyable  than  any 
other,  and" — with  an  arch  look  and  nod — "more  ap- 
plicable to  your  conception  of  the  term.  But" — her 
eyes  now  brimming  with  mirth — "I  will  not  take  more 
of  your  time,  as  I  believe  there  is  a  supplement  to  my 
programme  yet  to  come." 

The  president  looked  surprised. 

"I  know  of  nothing  more,  Miss  Minturn,"  she  said ; 
but  even  as  she  spoke  there  was  a  nervous  rustle  ap- 
parent among  some  of  the  audience. 

"Still  I  am  quite  sure  that  a  ghostly  surprise,  not 
down  on  my  pragramme,  had  been  planned  for  us. 
Perhaps  this  will  elucidate  my  meaning,"  Katherine  ex- 
plained, and,  bringing  to  light  something,  which  she 
had  until  then  concealed  behind  her,  she  shook  out  and 
held  up  to  view  a  white  robe,  made  of  a  sheet,  and 
also  a  white  mask. 

Groans  and  laughter  greeted  this  announcement  and 
display. 

"Oh !  who  has  given  us  away  ?  Who  has  told  you, 
Miss  Minturn?"  came  breathlessly  from  various  quar- 
ters of  the  room. 

"No  one  'has  given  the  secret  away' — no  one  has 


ii2  KATHERINE'S 

'told'  me  anything,"  she  replied.  "The  discovery  was 
an  accident.  I  was  obliged  to  slip  up  to  my  room  for 
something  forgotten,  just  before  it  was  time  to  open 
the  meeting.  As  I  reached  the  end  of  the  hall  I  heard 
voices,  and,  being  arrayed  in  the  dentist's  garb  with 
only  a  domino  over  it,  I  did  not  wish  to  be  seen.  I 
fled  into  the  closet  there,  and  the  next  moment  two 
juniors  passed,  carrying  something  in  their  arms, 
wrapped  in  shawls.  I  heard  one  say,  'When  I  give  the 
signal,  Miss  Blank  will  touch  the  button  and  put  out 
the  lights.'  When  they  were  beyond  hearing  I  stole 
from  the  closet  and  found  a  small  bundle  at  my  feet. 
Investigation  revealed  this  ghostly  garb,  and,  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  those  shawls,  in  yonder  corner,  contain 
several  others." 

The  room  was  very  still  for  a  moment  after  Kath- 
erine  concluded,  and  there  were  some  very  red  faces, 
here  and  there,  among  the  audience. 

Suddenly  Clara  Follet  sprang  to  her  feet,  and,  ad- 
dressing the  president,  said : 

"Miss  Walton,  as  I  am  the  leader  in  this  affair,  may 
I  make  an  explanation?" 

"Certainly.    Comrades,  Miss  Follet  has  the  floor." 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  make  a  clean 
breast  of  everything,"  continued  Miss  Follet,  with  a 
resolute  air,  but  with  crimson  cheeks  as  she  faced  the 
audience.  "As  you  all  know,  some  of  us  were  inclined 
to — to  guy  Miss  Minturn  at  our  last  meeting  about  a 
certain  subject,  and  when  she  declined  to  write  a  paper 
on  it  we  thought  we  would  give  her  another  as  nearly 
like  it  as  possible,  and  so  get  some  fun  out  of  it  when 


SHEAVES  113 

it  came  up  for  discussion.  Well" — with  a  suggestive 
shrug — "we,  of  course,  expected  she  would  go  into  it 
deep,  and  mount,  and  soar,  and  all  that ;  so  some  of  us 
put  our  heads  together  and  planned  a  ghost  walk.  We 
were  going  to  wait  until  she  reached  the  zenith  of  her 
flight,  when,  at  a  signal  from  me,  the  electrics  would 
be  turned  off,  which  would  leave  us  a  very  dim  light 
through  the  transoms  opening  into  the  hall ;  then  eight 
of  us  were  to  slip  into  our  robes,  form  a  circle  around 
Miss  Minturn,  and  chant  a  dirge.  Well — but — ahem  ! 
don't  you  see,  she  just  took  all  the  wind  out  of  our 
sails  to  begin  with  ?  Instead  of  a  'ghostly  surprise'  the 
ghosts  got  the  surprise — that  conundrum  and  charade 
made  me  suspect  that  the  committee  on  topics  were 
going  to  'get  left,'  and  I  began  to  feel  my  courage 
failing.  But  that  transcendental  poem ! — that  capped 
the  climax,  and  I  saw  that  the  only  thing  to  be  done 
was  for  the  spooks  to  hide  their  diminished  heads  and 
keep  dark." 

Miss  Follet  was  here  interrupted  by  vigorous  clap- 
ping and  bursts  of  irrepressible  laughter,  in  which  even 
the  dignified  president  joined. 

But  a  tap  of  the  gavel  restored  order,  and  Miss  Follet 
was  invited  to  proceed. 

"That  is  all  there  is  to  tell,"  she  replied,  "but  I  want 
to  add,  for  myself,  that  I  think  Miss  Minturn  is  'a 
brick,'  as  the  boys  would  put  it,  and  I  take  off  my  hat 
to  her" — turning  to  Katherine  with  a  low,  graceful 
bow — "if  she  will  accept  the  homage  from  the  chief 
transgressor,  who — to  make  all  possible  atonement — 
proposes  to  give  the  best  spread  of  the  season  in  her 
honor,  in  place  of  the  next  meeting,  if  the  league  will 


n4  KATHERINE'S 

vote  me  the  privilege  and  she  will  signify  her  pardon 
and  approval  by  shaking  hands  with  me." 

As  she  concluded  she  extended  her  hand  to  Kath- 
erine,  who  grasped  it  cordially,  amid  enthusiastic  clap- 
ping by  the  entire  audience. 

It  was  some  minutes  before  order  could  be  restored, 
when  the  business  was  transacted  and  Miss  Follet's 
proposal  to  give  a  spread  in  Miss  Minturn's  honor,  two 
weeks  from  that  night,  received  a  most  hearty  and 
unanimous  vote. 

When  the  meeting  was  dismissed  it  was  evident  that 
a  decided  reaction  of  feeling  had  taken  place,  for  Kath- 
erine  at  once  became  the  center  of  attraction  and  held 
a  delightful  little  reception  for  a  while;  but  this  was 
cut  short  by  the  ringing  of  the  retiring  bell,  and  the 
Junior  League  dispersed  in  the  happiest  frame  of  mind, 
all  declaring  chat  the  "Transcendental  Evening"  had 
been  the  finest  of  the  year. 

When  Katherine  laid  her  head  upon  her  pillow  that 
night  and  fell  asleep  her  pulses  were  beating  in  joyous 
rhythm  with  three  beautiful  words  gleaned  from  her 
beloved  "Science  and  Health" — "Love  is  enthroned! 
Love  is  enthroned  !"* 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  454. 


SHEAVES  115 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Katherine  Makes  a  Demonstration. 

From  that  time  on  Katherine  became  conscious  of  a 
very  different  atmosphere,  at  least  when  among  her 
own  classmates,  for,  instead  of  the  cold  shoulder, 
averted  glances  and  a  general  stampede  whenever  she 
appeared,  she  was  now  cordially  received  and  greeted 
upon  all  occasions. 

This  was  more  apparent  after  Miss  Follet's  "spread," 
two  weeks  later,  and  which  really  proved  to  be  the 
"finest  of  the  season,"  being  a  "full-dress  affair,"  when 
all  barriers  were  swept  away  during  the  "jollification" 
and  every  vestige  of  disaffection  vanished  in  company 
with  the  bountiful  and  dainty  viands  that  were  literally 
fit  "to  set  before  a  king." 

Katherine,  being  the  guest  of  honor,  was  toasted  and 
made  much  of,  and  her  companions  found  that  she 
could  appreciate  a  frolic  as  heartily  as  anyone,  and  was 
not  behind,  either,  in  making  fun  for  others. 

One  evening,  early  in  May,  shortly  after  "the 
spread,"  Katherine  was  diligently  studying  the  mor- 
row's lessons  when  a  rap  sounded  on  her  door,  and, 
upon  giving  the  usual  password,  Jennie  Wild  put  her 
curly  head  inside  the  room  and  observed : 

"Miss  Minturn,  Miss  Reynolds  has  sent  me  to  ask 


n6  KATHERINE'S 

if  you  will  come  to  her  room  as  soon  as  the  study  hour 
is  over." 

"Yes,  Jennie,  I  will  go  to  her  the  moment  the  bell 
rings,"  replied  Katherine,  who  knew  that  her  teacher 
had  not  been  well  for  nearly  a  week,  and,  for  the  last 
two  days,  had  been  unable  to  attend  to  her  duties. 

"And,  Miss  Minturn,"  continued  the  girl,  lingering. 

"Well?"  said  her  friend,  inquiringly. 

"May  I  go  with  you  to  your  service,  next  Sunday  ?" 

"Why,  Jennie !  What  has  possessed  you  to  ask  me 
that?" 

"Oh,  I  thought  I'd  just  like  to  know  what  kind  of  a 
rigmarole — • —  Oh,  Peter  Piper !  what  have  I  said  ?" 
the  heedless  girl  interposed  as  Katherine  flushed  and 
looked  up  suddenly.  "I-  really  didn't  mean  that — I — 
er — it  just  slipped  out  before  I  had  time  to  think.  But, 
truly,  I  would  like  to  go  with  you." 

"But  you  know  it  is  against  the  rules  for  students  to 
leave  their  own  church.  You  would  have  to  get  per- 
mission of  Prof.  Seabrook,"  Katherine  returned. 

"I  don't  want  to  ask  him,"  said  Jennie,  with  a  shrug, 
adding:  "He  need  never  know." 

"No,  Jennie,  I  cannot  countenance  any  such  disobe- 
dience," gravely  replied  her  companion.  "And  if  it  is 
only  a  matter  of  idle  curiosity  on  your  part,  I  think 
you  had  better  wait  until  you  are  actuated  by  a  more 
worthy  motive." 

Jennie  looked  really  distressed  under  this  reproof. 

"I'm  afraid  I've  offended  you,"  she  began,  plain- 
tively. "I  didn't  mean  to  speak  slightingly  of  your 
church,  and  I'm — sorry " 

"Don't  be  troubled,  Jennie,  dear ;  I  am  not  offended," 


SHEAVES  117 

said  Katherine,  smiling  reassuringly.  "Of  course,  you 
understand  that,  to  me,  our  service  is  very  beautiful 
and  sacred.  I  would  dearly  love  to  have  you  go  with 
me  in  a  proper  way ;  but  if  you  do  not  like  to  ask  per- 
mission you  can  wait  until  vacation,  when  you  will  not 
be  hampered  by  school  rules." 

"All  right;  perhaps — I  will,"  returned  Jennie,  with 
a  sly  smile;  then,  with  a  friendly  "good-night,"  she 
went  away,  and  Katherine  thought  no  more  of  the  mat- 
ter at  that  time. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  nine  o'clock  bell  rang  and 
she  repaired  at  once  to  Miss  Reynolds'  room.  She 
found  her  teacher  in  bed,  looking  flushed  and  feverish, 
her  throat  badly  swollen  and  swathed  in  flannels,  while 
she  was  scarcely  able  to  speak  aloud. 

She  smiled  a  welcome  and  held  out  her  hand  to  the 
girl,  who  clasped  it  fondly  as  she  sat  down  beside  her. 

"I  suppose  you  would  say  'it  is  nothing,'  "  whispered 
the  woman,  a  little  gleam  of  laughter  in  her  eyes,  not- 
withstanding her  evident  suffering. 

"No,  I  should  say  nothing  of  the  kind  to  you,"  said 
Katherine,  gravely.  "But  I  hoped  that  I  should  find 
you  better." 

"No,  Kathie" — a  fond  way  she  had  adopted  of  late 
when  addressing  her — "I  have  been  growing  steadily 
worse  since  last  night.  This  afternoon  I  have  been 
very  ill,  and  Prof.  Seabrook  sent  me  word  by  his  wife, 
to-night,  that  if  I  am  not  better  by  morning  he  will 
call  a  physician  upon  his  own  responsibility.  I  don't 
want  a  doctor,"  she  went  on,  after  resting  a  moment, 
"for,  since  having  those  talks  with  you  and  learning 


n8  KATHERINE'S 

something  of  your  faith,  I  find  myself  shrinking  from 
medical  treatment." 

Katherine  glanced  involuntarily  at  the  array  of  bot- 
tles on  the  table  near  her,  and  Miss  Reynolds,  observ- 
ing it,  smiled. 

"True,"  she  said,  "I  have  been  dosing  myself  with 
every  remedy  that  I  could  think  of,  while  'halting  be- 
tween two  opinions' ;  but  nothing  does  any  good,  and  I 
have  come  to  the  end  of  my  rope,  so  to  speak.  That 
is  why  I  have  sent  for  you,  Kathie — to  ask  you  to 
treat  me  your  way." 

Katherine  flushed,  and  for  an  instant  a  sense  of  fear 
held  her  in  its  grip.  With  it  also  came  the  query, 
"What  would  Prof.  Seabrook  think  of  having  Chris- 
tian Science  healing  deliberately  practiced  in  Hilton 
Seminary  ?" 

Then  she  mentally  declared :  "There  is  no  fear  in 
love,"  and  "where  duty  pointed  the  way  she  would 
boldly  walk  therein." 

"Are  you  afraid  to  take  hold  of  it?"  her  teacher  in- 
quired, as  she  observed  her  hesitation. 

"No,  I  am  not  afraid,  for  I  know  that  God  is 
supreme  and  never  fails  those  who*  put  their  trust  in 
Him,"  was  the  confident  response.  "But,"  Katherine 
continued,  "are  you  sure  you  really  want  Christian 
Science  treatment?" 

"Very  sure,  Kathie." 

"How  about  these?"  and  the  girl  glanced  at  the  bot- 
tles, "and  this?"  touching  the  flannel  about  her  throat. 

"Oh,  I  know  they  are  of  no  use,"  said  the  sick 
woman,  with  an  impatient  sigh.  "You  may  put  the 
medicines  all  away,  and  I  will  take  off  the  flannel.  I 


SHEAVES  119 

am  determined  not  to  have  a  doctor  and  be  laid  up  for 
three  long  weeks,  if  I  can  help  it." 

"Very  well ;  then  I  will  do  my  utmost  for  you,"  said 
our  young  Scientist,  in  a  resolute  tone.  "I  shall  stay 
here  with  you  to-night;  but,  first,  I  must  go  to  tell 
Sadie  and  get  my  wrapper." 

"Ah !  that  is  kind ;  you  can  sleep  on  the  couch,  and, 
really,  dear,  I  do  feel  too  sick  to  be  left  alone,"  was  the 
weary  reply. 

Without  further  ado  Katherine  sped  back  to  her 
room — working  mentally  for  her  friend  as  she  went — 
told  Sadie  her  plan,  and  donned  a  loose  wrapper ;  then, 
taking  her  Bible  and  "Science  and  Health,"  she  has- 
tened back  to  her  patient. 

During  her  absence  Miss  Reynolds  had  removed  the 
voluminous  folds  from  her  neck,  and  now  looked  re- 
lieved as  Katherine  reappeared,  prepared  to  care  for 
her  during  the  night. 

Katherine  noiselessly  removed  the  various  bottles, 
tumblers,  etc.,  from  the  table,  laying  her  books  in  their 
place,  and  was  on  the  point  of  sitting  down  to  begin 
her  work  when  there  came  a  rap  on  the  door. 

Upon  answering  it  she  found  Mrs.  Seabrook  stand- 
ing without,  a  bowl  of  steaming  gruel  in  her  hands. 

"Oh,  you  are  going  to  stay  with  Miss  Reynolds  to- 
night !"  she  exclaimed,  her  face  lighting  as  she  saw 
the  girl  in  her  wrapper.  "I  am  very  glad — I  had  in- 
tended doing  so  myself,  for  I  know  she  should  not  be 
left  alone;  but  Dorothy  has  just  had  a  bad  turn  and  I 
cannot  leave  her.  How  is  she  now?"  she  concluded, 
glancing  towards  the  bed. 

"About  the  same  as  she  has  been  all  day." 


120  KATHERINE'S 

Mrs.  Seabrook  sighed  anxiously. 

"I  wish  she  would  have  a  doctor,"  she  said.  "We 
shall  insist  upon  it  if  she  is  not  better  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  have  made  her  some  gruel — do  make  her  take 
at  least  a  part  of  it,  for  she  has  had  no  nourishment 
to-day." 

"Thank  .you,  I  will  try ;  and  do  not  worry,  dear  Mrs. 
Seabrook.  I  will  take  the  very  best  of  care  of  her,  I 
promise  you,"  said  Katherine,  cheerily^-— 

"I  know  you  will,  you  dear  child;  and  you  have  re- 
moved a  load  from  my  heart  already,"  returned  the 
care-laden  woman,  tears  springing  to  her  eyes.  Then 
she  bade  her  good-night  and  left  her,  whereupon  Kath- 
erine locked  the  door,  and,  slipping  quietly  into  a  chair, 
began  working  vigorously  for  her  friend. 

For  more  than  an  hour  there  seemed  to  be  no  change 
in  her  patient's  condition.  Indeed,  if  anything,  the 
symptoms  appeared  to  be  aggravated ;  she  tossed  rest- 
lessly, the  fever  apparently  increasing,  while  she  called 
for  water  every  few  moments,  but  refused  the  gruel, 
saying  she  could  not  swallow  it. 

Eleven  o'clock  came — half-past ;  then  the  long  tolling 
of  the  tower  clock  proclaimed  midnight  ere  Katherine 
was  able  to  detect  the  slightest  sign  of  improvement. 
Then,  as  she  responded  to  another  call  for  water,  she 
found  that  the  fever  had  abated  and  there  was  a  slight 
moisture  in  the  palm  of  the  hand,  which  she  clasped  for 
an  instant. 

Another  half  hour  spent  in  alternate  reading  and 
work  brought  quiet,  restful  sleep.  But  the  faithful 
sentinel  on  guard  labored  on,  now  reading  from  her 
precious  book,  then  seeking  help  from  the  only  source 


SHEAVES  121 

whence  cometh  all  help  and  comfort,  and  never  doubt- 
ing that  the  answer  to  her  prayer  would  eventually 
come. 

At  two  o'clock  Miss  Reynolds  aroused  and  again 
called  for  water ;  then,  after  drinking  thirstily,  dropped 
restfully  back  upon  her  pillows. 

At  three  she  awoke  once  more  and  asked  for  the 
gruel. 

"Kathie,  I  am  better — the  fever  is  gone,  and  my 
throat  is  not  so  sore !"  she  said,  smiling  faintly  into 
the  earnest  face  looking  down  upon  her. 

"That  is  certainly  good  news,"  Katherine  returned, 
as  she  received  the  bowl  half-emptied  of  its  contents. 
"Now  go  to  sleep  again,  and  I  will  lie  down  upon  the 
couch." 

She  lay  awake,  working,  however,  until  the  regular 
breathing  from  the  bed  told  her  that  her  patient  was 
wrapped  in  slumber ;  when,  assured  that  her  toiling 
and  rowing  were  over  for  the  present,  and  God  at  the 
helm,  she,  too,  dropped  off,  and  knew  no  more  until 
aroused  by  the  rising  bell  at  half-past  six. 

She  started  up,  but  her  companion  slept  on,  and,  dis- 
liking to  disturb  her,  she  lay  back  and  worked  silently 
until  the  next  bell,  at  seven-thirty,  called  to  the  morn- 
ing meal. 

Miss  Reynolds  heard  it  also,  turned  over  and  looked 
at  her  companion,  then  sat  up  and  involuntarily  put 
her  hands  to  her  throat. 

An  expression  of  astonishment  swept  over  her  face. 

"Katherine!  why,  Katherine!"  she  exclaimed; 
"where  is  it  ?" 


122  •  KATHERINE'S 

"Where  is  what?"  inquired  the  girl,  going  to  her 
side. 

"The  swelling !" 

"There  is  none,"  said  Katherine,  with  a  happy  smile 
as  she  glanced  at  the  white,  shapely  neck  to  find  it  in 
its  normal  condition. 

"Neither  is  there  any  soreness  in  my  throat !  Child, 
I  do  not  know  what  to  think  of  it !"  said  the  woman, 
with  a  note  of  awe  in  her  tone. 

"Think  that  God  was  a  very  present  help  in  time 
of  need,"  returned  Katherine,  with  sweet  seriousness 
and  a  slight  tremble  in  her  own  voice. 

Miss  Reynolds  fell  back  upon  her  pillow,  a  thought- 
ful look  on  her  face.  But,  presently,  glancing  at  the 
clock,  she  said : 

"Dear  child,  you  must  go  for  your  breakfast,  or  you 
will  be  too  late." 

"I  will;  but  what  shall  I  bring  you  afterwards?" 

"What  may  I  have?" 

"Anything  you  like." 

"Truly?" 

"Certainly ;  don't  you  remember  what  we  were  talk- 
ing of  last  week — man's  God-given  dominion  over  all 
things?" 

"Well,  it  surpasses  my  comprehension,  for  I  have 
always  had  to  be  careful  what  I  ate  after  one  of  these 
attacks !  But  I  am  in  your  hands,  Kathie — you  may 
bring  me  what  you  choose,  and  I  believe  I  am  hungry," 
Miss  Reynolds  returned,  in  a  tone  of  conviction. 

"You  shall  have  something  very  soon,"  Katherine 
assured  her,  and,  having  dressed  her  hair  while  talking, 
she  now  flew  away  to  her  own  room  to  complete  her 


SHEAVES  123 

ktoilet,  a  paean  of  praise  thrilling  her  heart  for  the  re- 
cent safe  and  triumphant  passage  through  the  Red  Sea 
of  human  fear  and  error,  whose  waves  had  so  threat- 
ened to  engulf  her  patient  the  night  before. 

Breakfast  was  nearly  over  when  she  reached  the 
dining  room ;  but  she  slid  quietly  into  her  place  and 
made  a  hurried  meal,  after  which  she  sought  the  matron 
and  gave  her  order  for  Miss  Reynolds,  saying  she 
would  wait  and  take  the  tray  up  to  her. 

While  she  was  waiting,  Mrs.  Seabrook  espied  her 
and  came  to  inquire  for  her  patient. 

"She  is  more  comfortable  this  morning,"  Katherine 
replied,  and,  thinking  it  wise  not  to  say  very  much 
regarding  the  conditions  upstairs. 

Mrs.  Seabrook  appeared  greatly  relieved. 

"I  am  thankful,"  she  said.  "I  was  very  anxious 
about  her  last  night,  for  I  have  never  seen  her  so  ill 
before.  Poor  Dorrie  is  not  as  well,  either,  this  morn- 
ing," she  concluded,  with  a  weary  sigh. 

A  wave  of  compassion  swept  over  ^Catherine's  heart 
for  this  sweet,  patient  woman,  who  was  so  heavily  bur- 
dened with  her  own  cares,  yet  ever  ready  to  do  for 
others. 

"Give  my  love  to  Dorrie,"  she  said,  adding :  "And  I 
will  run  in  to  see  her  this  afternoon,  if  I  may." 

"Do,  Miss  Minturn,"  said  her  companion,  eagerly. 
"You  always  do  the  child  good,  and  she  will  have 
something  pleasant  to  look  forward  to  during  the  day." 

Miss  Reynolds  enjoyed  her  breakfast,  which  she  ate 
with  perfect  ease.  Then  she  said  she  would  like  to  be 
left  alone  to  rest  until  noon,  when  Katherine  might 


124  KATHERINE'S 

bring  her  a  light  dinner — "provided  her  breakfast  did 
not  hurt  her." 

Katherine  pinned  upon  her  door  a  slip  of  paper  on 
which  was  written  "not  to  be  disturbed" ;  then  went 
away  to  her  own  duties,  which  would  be  over  at  noon, 
it  being  Saturday  and  a  half  holiday. 

After  eating  her  own  dinner,  she  arranged  a  gener- 
ous and  tempting  meal  on  a  tray  and  took  it  to  her 
teacher's  room. 

She  found  her  up  and  dressed  in  her  wrapper  and 
seated  in  a  comfortable  rocker,  reading  "Science  and 
Health,"  which  she  had  left  lying  on  the  table. 

Miss  Reynolds  looked  up  and  nodded  brightly  as  she 
laid  down  the  book. 

"Isn't  this  perectly  lovely?  Aren't  you  astonished  to 
find  me  up  ?"  she  inquired,  as  she  bestowed  a  fond  pat 
upon  the  girl  who  had  drawn  a  small  table  to  her  side 
and  was  arranging  her  dinner  upon  it. 

"Not  in  the  least,"  said  Katherine,  bending  to  kiss 
the  cheek  nearest  her. 

"Aren't  you?  not  the  least  bit?  Why!  I  am  simply 
amazed  at  myself!"  her  teacher  exclaimed. 

Katherine  kughed  out  merrily. 

"I  suppose  you  have  heard  of  the  woman  who,  on 
being  told  that  'the  prayer  of  faith  would  remove 
mountains,'  prayed  that  God  would  take  away  the  hill 
behind  her  house?"  she  queried,  archly. 

"Yes,  and  on  looking  out  in  the  morning,  said :  'It's 
just  as  I  expected ;  I  knew  it  would  be  here  just  the 
same !'  I  know  the  story,  and  I  see  your  point  on  lack 
of  faith,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  echoing  the  girl's  laugh. 

"But  that  is  not  the  way  Christian  Scientists  pray," 


SHEAVES  125 

Katharine  observed.  "Jesus  said,  'All  things  whatso- 
ever ye  ask  in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive.'  You 
are  not  quite  like  the  woman  who  prayed  for  what  she 
was  sure  she  would  not  get;  but  you  are  'amazed'  be- 
cause you  have  received  that  for  which  we  asked; 
which  shows  that  you  did  not  really  expect  it." 

"But  I  must  have  had  some  faith,  Kathie,  or  I  would 
not  have  trusted  myself  to  your  treatment." 

"True ;  and  that  was  your  first  step  in  Christian  Sci- 
ence, which  brought  with  it  the  proof  of  God's 
supremacy." 

"It  certainly  is  a  beautiful  proof,"  Miss  Reynolds 
earnestly  returned,  "for  I  have  been  subject  to  these 
attacks  for  many  years,  and  have  always  been  under 
the  care  of  a  physician  from  three  to  five  weeks  before 
getting  back  to  my  normal  condition." 

She  went  on  with  her  dinner,  but  it  was  evident 
that  she  was  thinking  deeply,  while  Katherine  moved 
softly  about  the  room  putting  things  in  order. 

"Katherine,"  the  woman  at  length  inquired,  "what  is 
this  'treatment'  which  you  give  the  sick?  Is  it  simply 
prayer  ?" 

"Yes,  and  the  understanding  that  God  is  all  in  all." 

"Well,  I  would  like  to  know  the  secret  of  it.  I  have 
been  a  prayerful  woman  during  the  greater  portion  of 
my  life — at  least,  according  to  the  common  accepta- 
tion of  the  term ;  but  I  have  never  before  known  of  a 
direct  answer  to  prayer  such  has  come  to  you  or  to 
me,  through  you.  What  constitutes  a  Christian  Scien- 
tist's prayer  and  understanding?" 

"That  question  involves  a  great  deal,"  said  Kath- 


126  KATHERINE'S 

erine,  smiling.  "Briefly,  it  is  reaching  out  for  and 
appropriating  that  which  is  already  ours." 

'  'Appropriating?'  " 

"Yes,  knowing  that  all  good  belongs  by  right  to  us, 
as  God's  dear  children ;  and  acting  as  if  we  knew  it, 
by  gratefully  accepting  it,"  Katherine  explained.  Then 
observing  the  puzzled  look  on  her  teacher's  face,  she 
went  on : 

"Let  me  illustrate.  You  asked  for  your  dinner.  I 
have  brought  it  and  set  it  before  you.  All  you  have 
to  do  is  to  reach  out  and  partake  of  it  to  satisfy  your 
hunger.  How  inconsistent  it  would  be  if  you  should 
ignore  these  facts  and  keep  on  saying,  'Katherine,  I 
want  my  dinner ;  please,  oh,  please  give  me  some  food, 
for  I  am  starving.' ': 

"How  ridiculous  that  sounds !"  said  Miss  Reynolds, 
laughing.  "I  begin  to  comprehend  what  you  mean 
and  that  the  old  way  of  praying  is  only  a  halfway 
prayer,  while  begging  and  supplicating  God  to  keep 
His  promises  impugns  His  righteousness." 

"Exactly,"  Katherine  assented,  then  added  :  "Prayer 
is  really  twofold — asking  and  taking,  praying  and  do- 
ing; knowing  that  God's  promises  mean  what  they  say, 
and  confidently  expecting  their  fulfillment." 

"Do  you  always  have  this  confidence  when  you  have 
difficulties  to  meet,  Kathie?  I  should  think  it  would 
not  always  be  easy  to  'know,'  "  thoughtfully  observed 
Miss  Reynolds. 

"No,  it  is  not  always  easy  to  have  perfect  trust ;  in 
that  case  every  demonstration,  or  answer  to  prayer, 
would  be  instantaneous.  One  needs  to  be  patient  and 
persistent,  the  same  as  one  needs  to  go  over  a  difficult 


SHEAVES  127 

mathematical  problem  many  times  before  getting  a 
correct  answer,  but  never  doubting  that  it  will  follow 
right  effort,"  Katherine  explained.  "Of  course,  there 
is  a  great  deal  more  that  might  be  said  about  the  sub- 
ject," she  added,  "and  if  you  will  read  the  chapter  on 
'Prayer'  in  our  text-book  you  will  get  a  far  better  idea 
of  it  than  I  have  given  you." 

"I  will  read  it  this  afternoon  if  you  are  not  going  to 
use  your  book,"  Miss  Reynolds  replied. 

"I  have  another  copy,  and  you  may  keep  this  one  for 
a  while,"  and  Katherine  flushed  with  pleasure  at  the 
woman's  manifest  interest  in  her  beloved  Science. 

"Thank  you ;  and  now" — glancing  archly  at  the  al- 
most empty  dishes  before  her — "don't  you  think  I  have 
done  ample  justice  to  the  generous  repast  you  brought 
me?  I  only  hope  it  won't  bring  on  the  fever  again." 

"Oh,  faithless  and  perverse  generation !"  quoted 
Katherine,  with  smiling  reproof.  "It  will  not,"  she 
added,  positively;  "remember  your  'God-given  domin- 
ion.' " 

"I  will  try,  dear;  I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  Kathie, 
and  to  God,  for  the  wonderful  transformation  of  the 
last  few  hours,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  with  starting 
tears.  "If  it  were  not  for  this  feeling  of  weakness  I 
believe  I  could  dress  and  go  down  to  supper  to-night." 

At  that  instant  there  came  a  tap  on  the  door,  and  on 
going  to  answer  it  Katherine  found  Mrs.  Seabrook 
and  Miss  Williams,  another  teacher,  without. 

Both  ladies  exclaimed  in  astonishment  upon  seeing 
the  supposed  invalid  up  and  dressed,  while  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook  viewed  with  grave  disapproval  the  tray  before 
her,  with  its  remnants  of  a  hearty  dinner. 


128  KATHERINE'S 

"My  dear!  are  you  crazy  that  you  dare  eat  meat, 
potatoes  and  vegetables — yes,  and  pie  ! — with  such  a 
fever?"  she  cried,  aghast. 

"I  have  no  fever,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  giving  her  a 
cool,  normal  hand.  "I  am  very  much  better,  and  I 
was  hungry,  so  asked  Miss  Minturn  to  bring  me  some- 
thing nice  to  eat." 

"All  the  same,  you  are  very  injudicious,"  was  the 
severe  rejoinder.  But  the  transgressor  only  smiled  se- 
renely and  began  to  talk  of  other  things,  while  Kath- 
erine  removed  the  offensive  tray,  taking  it  below,  after 
which  she  sought  her  own  room. 


SHEAVES 


129 


CHAPTER   X. 

Mrs.  Seabrook' s  Problem. 

Katherine  spent  a  while  chatting  with  her  room- 
mate, after  which  she  made  some  change  in  her  dress, 
then  sought  Mrs.  Seabrook's  apartments  to  make  her 
promised  visit  to  Dorothy. 

The  child  was  reclining  on  a  couch  and  propped  up 
by  numerous  pillows.  She  looked  pale  and  worn 
from  recent  suffering,  although,  just  then,  she  was 
comparatively  comfortable. 

Prof.  Seabrook  was  sitting  beside  her,  reading  from 
an  entertaining  book,  to  pass  the  time  during  his  wife's 
absence  on  her  round  of  visits  to  the  sick. 

Katherine  flushed  slightly  as  she  entered  the  room, 
for,  try  as  she  would,  she  had  not  yet  quite  overcome 
a  sense  of  reserve  whenever  she  met  her  principal. 
His  manner  to  her  was  always  marked  by  the  most 
punctilious  politeness ;  but  it  was  such  frigid  courtesy 
and  so  entirely  at  variance  with  his  affability  during 
their  first  interview,  that  she  also  seemed  to  freeze  when 
in  his  presence. 

The  moment  the  door  opened  Dorothy  uttered  a  cry 
of  joy,  extending  eager  hands  to  her,  and,  after  sa- 
luting Prof.  Seabrook,  Katherine  went  to  her  side,  a 
cheery  smile  upon  her  lips  as  she  greeted  her. 

"I'm   so  glad,   Miss   Minturn !     Mamma   said   vou 


130  KATHERINE'S 

were  coming,  and  I've  been  watching  the  door  ever 
since  dinner.  Can  you  stay  a  long  time?"  exclaimed 
the  girl,  in  glad  tones. 

"Perhaps  I  am  interrupting  something  interesting," 
Katherine  observed,  as  she  glanced  at  the  book  in  the 
professor's  hands. 

"Well,  papa  has  been  reading  to  me,  and  it  was  in- 
teresting," Dorothy  truthfully  admitted.  "But  he  has 
an  engagement  pretty  soon,  and  is  only  staying  with 
me  till  mamma  comes  back,  for  Alice  is  out.  Mamma 
has  gone  up  to  see  Miss  Reynolds.  Do  you  know  she 
is  awful  sick?" 

"She  is  much  better  to-day.  I  came  from  her  room 
only  a  little  while  ago,"  said  Katherine,  "and  I  can 
stay  an  hour,  or  more,  with  you  if  you  like.  I  will  go 
on  with  the  reading,  Prof.  Seabrook,  if  it  will  relieve 
you,"  she  added,  courteously  turning  to  him. 

"Oh,  I'd  rather  talk  with  you,"  Dorothy  interposed. 
"Mamma  can  finish  the  story  by  and  by.  Now,  papa, 
you  can  go  and  leave  me  with  Miss  Minturn." 

Prof.  Seabrook  arose. 

"It  is  very  good  of  you,  Miss  Minturn,"  he  said,  ad- 
dressing her  with  studied  politeness.  "I  do  feel  anx- 
ious to  get  away  to  an  important  appointment.  Well, 
Dorrie,  what  shall  I  bring  you  from  the  city  ?"  he  ques- 
tioned, as  he  bent  over  the  girl,  his  tones  softening 
suddenly  to  yearning  tenderness. 

"Oh !  papa,  it's  Saturday,  you  know,"  she  said,  with 
a  wise  look. 

"Sure;  I  almost  forgot,  and  the  inevitable  cream 
chocolates  for  Sunday  will  have  to  be  forthcoming,  I 
suppose,"  he  laughingly  rejoined.  "Anything  else?" 


SHEAVES  131 

"No,  I  guess  not;  only  tell  Uncle  Phil,  if  you  see 
him,  to  be  sure  to  come  out  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,"  then  kissing  her  fondly,  he  bowed 
formally  to  Katherine  and  quietly  left  the  room. 

Ten  minutes  later  Mrs.  Seabrook  returned,  and 
Katherine  persuaded  her  to  go  out  for  a  walk,  a 
privilege  which  the  closely  confined  woman  was  glad 
to  avail  herself  of,  and  Dorothy  was  soon  absorbed  in 
the  description  of  a  moonlight  fete  on  the  Grand  Canal 
in  Venice,  and  which  Katherine  had  participated  in 
during  her  recent  tour  abroad. 

Meantime  Mrs.  Seabrook  was  walking  briskly  to- 
wards the  highway,  but  with  a  very  thoughtful  ex- 
pression on  her  refined  face. 

It  was  one  of  those  soft,  balmy  days  of  May  that  al- 
most delude  one  into  the  belief  that  it  is  June ;  that  thrill 
the  heart  with  tenderness  for  every  living  thing,  and 
quicken  responsive  pulses  with  their  unfolding  beauty. 
She  had  been  shut  up  the  whole  week  with  Dorrie, 
while,  with  Miss  Reynolds  alarmingly  ill  and  several 
of  the  students  threatened  with  as  many  different  ail- 
ments, her  time  had  been  more  than  full,  and  her  mind 
heavily  burdened  with  care  and  anxiety.  So  it  was 
with  a  sense  of  freedom  and  grateful  appreciation  that 
she  pursued  her  way,  breathing  in  the  pure  and  re- 
freshing air,  basking  in  the  genial  sunshine  and  feast- 
ing her  eyes  upon  the  loveliness  all  around  her ;  but 
thinking,  thinking  with  a  strange  feeling  of  awe  deep 
down  in  her  heart. 

She  had  just  passed  the  entrance  to  the  grounds  of 
the  seminary,  when  she  saw  her  brother,  Dr.  Stanley, 
approaching  from  the  opposite  direction. 


132  KATHERINE'S 

She  hurried  forward  to  greet  him. 

"I  am  more  than  glad  to  see  you,  Phillip,"  she  said, 
as  she  slipped  her  hand,  girl  fashion,  into  his,  as  it 
hung  by  his  side.  "Come  and  walk  with  me.  I  want 
to  talk  to  you." 

"I  am  on  my  way  to  Dorrie,"  he  replied.  "I  met 
William  in  a  car,  as  I  was  returning  to  town  from  a 
visit  to  a  patient,  and  he  told  me  she  had  been  very 
poorly  to-day.  So  I  took  the  next  car  back  to  see 
her." 

"Yes,  she  had  a  very  bad  night,  but  has  grown  more 
comfortable  within  the  last  few  hours.  Miss  Minturn 
offered  to  sit  with  her  and  let  me  out  for  a  breath  of 
air,"  his  sister  explained. 

"I  owe  Miss  Minturn  my  personal  thanks.  But  per- 
haps I  ought  to  go  on  and  take  a  look  at  Dorrie,"  said 
the  physician,  thoughtfully. 

"No,  Phil ;  come  with  me.  I  am  heavy-hearted,  dis- 
couraged, and  I  need  to  be  comforted,"  said  the  much- 
tried  woman,  the  sound  of  tears  in  her  voice.  "Miss 
Minturn  is  very  nice  with  Dorothy,"  she  continued, 
struggling  for  self-control ;  "the  child  always  seems 
happy  and  to  forget  herself  when  she  is  with  her.  Per- 
haps, though,  you  haven't  time,"  she  added,  with  sud- 
den thought. 

"Yes,  I  have,  Emelie,"  the  man  gently  replied,  "and 
we  will  have  one  of  our  old  tramps  together.  Come ! 
Let  us  get  as  far  as  possible  from  that  pile  of  brick 
and  stone  and  its  too  familiar  surroundings."  And  still 
holding  her  hand,  swinging  it  gently  back  and  forth, 
he  led  her  along  the  road  towards  the  open  country. 

"What  a  strange  world  this  is,  Phil !"  Mrs.  Seabrook 


SHEAVES      ,  133 

broke  out,  suddenly,  after  they  had  traversed  quite  a 
distance  and  talked  of  various  matters.  "Everything 
in  it  seems  to  be  at  cross-purposes." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Emelie  ?    Look  !" 

The  man  checked  her  steps  and  pointed  to  the  view 
before  them.  They  had  come  to  the  brow  of  a  hill, 
and  there,  spread  out  beneath  them,  was  a  valley  teem- 
ing with  luxuriant  beauty  that  was  a  delight  to  the 
eye  and  full  of  exhilarating  charm.  Thrifty  farms 
dotted  the  broad  expanse  as  far  as  they  could  see; 
springing  fields  of  grain,  interspersed  with  verdant 
meadows,  and  rich  pastures  dotted  with  their  feeding 
kine  were  suggestive  of  prosperous  homes  and  hus- 
bandmen; stretches  of  woodlands,  with  their  sturdy 
trunks  and  vigorous  branches,  unfurled  their  banners 
of  living  green  in  varying  shades  and  lent  an  air  of 
dignity  and  strength  to  the  attractive  landscape.  Here 
and  there  an  apple  orchard,  with  trees  in  full  bloom, 
gave  a  dainty  touch  of  color  to  brighten  the  whole,  and 
a  small  river  winding  its  glimmering  way,  like  a  rope 
of  silver  thrown  at  random,  made  a  graceful  trail  over 
the  scene;  while  above  it  all  fleecy  clouds,  skimming 
athwart  a  sky  of  vivid  blue,  cast  lights  and  shadows 
that  could  not  have  failed  to  thrill  and  inspire  the  soul 
of  an  old  master  painter. 

"I  know — that  is  lovely !  No,  there  are  no  cross- 
purposes  in  nature;  it  all  seems  in  perfect  harmony," 
murmured  Mrs.  Seabrook,  her  eyes  glowing  with 
keen  appreciation  of  the  exquisite  picture  before  her. 
"It  is  only  poor  humanity  that  seems  all  out  of  tune," 
she  went  on,  the  tense  lines  coming  back  to  her  face. 
"Oh,  Phillip!  what  is  this  mystery  of  suffering  that 


134  KATHERINE'S 

we  see  all  about  us  ?  If  God  is  tender,  and  loving,  and 
supreme,  why — oh !  why — is  the  world  so  full  of  it  ?" 

Dr.  Stanley  lifted  the  hand  that  he  was  still  holding 
and  laid  it  within  his  arm,  drawing-  her  closer  to  him 
with  a  tenderness  which  told  her  that  he  both  knew 
and  shared  the  heavy  burden  that  weighed  so  heavily 
upon  her  heart.  tg^1' 

"Emelie,"  he  said,  his  eyes  lingering  upon  the  scene 
before  them,  "that  is  a  question  that  I  have  often  asked 
myself,  especially  during  the  last  two  years  that  I 
spent  in  those  hospitals  abroad,  and  witnessed  the 
wretchedness  they  contained.  And  I  suppose  every- 
body has  been  asking  it  over  and  over  for  ages  gone 
by.  We  have  been  taught  that  sin  is  the  root  of  it  all," 
he  went  on,  musingly;  "that  sin  brought  sickness  and 
death.  Then,  as  you  say,  if  God  is  supreme,  why 
doesn't  He  abolish  the  sin,  or  at  least  show  humanity 
how  to  conquer  it  in  a  practical  way,  to  overcome  or 
lessen  the  results  of  sin  ?  But  no !  The  same  tragedy 
is  repeated  with  every  generation,  and  seems  likely  to 
go  on  for  ages  to  come." 

"Sin !  What  sin  could  an  innocent  child  like  Dorrie 
be  guilty  of,  to  bring  upon  her  the  curse  of  torture  that 
she  has  endured  for  the  last  eight  years?"  cried  Mrs. 
Seabrook,  a  note  of  intolerant  anguish  in  her  tones. 
"I  know  you  will  say  theology  teaches  that  it  is  the 
heredity  sin  of  our  first  parents;  but,  Phillip,  that  is 
not  fair  nor  just — it  is  not  logical  reasoning.  I  be- 
lieve I  am  beginning  to  be  very  skeptical,  for  that 
argument  hasn't  a  true  ring  to  it.  What  human  father 
or  mother  would  torture  their  offspring  simply  because 
an  ancestor,  many  generations  ago,  had  committed  a 


SHEAVES  135 

crime,  however  heinous?  Oh,  sometimes  I  am  almost 
on  the  verge  of  declaring  there  is  no  God.  That  would 
bring  chaos,  I  know,"  she  added,  with  a  deprecatory 
smile,  as  she  saw  her  brother's  brow  contract ;  "but  it 
really  does  seem  as  if  the  pros  and  cons  are  dispro- 
portionate, the  cons  far  outnumbering  the  pros,  as  far 
as  poor  humanity  is  concerned." 

"Emelie,  you  need  change  of  scene;  you  are  becom- 
ing morbid,"  said  Phillip  Stanley,  looking  with  fond 
anxiety  into  the  somber  eyes  upraised  to  his. 

"Change  of  scene  would  not  remove  the  sword  that 
hangs  over  me,  for  you  know  that  where  I  go  Dorrie 
must  also  go.  Oh !  Phillip,  do  you  believe  that  any- 
thing will  ever  permanently  relieve  that  child  of  pain  ?" 
Mrs.  Seabrook  cried,  a  sob  escaping  her  quivering  lips. 
"I  don't  expect  she  is  ever  going  to  be  straight,  like 
other  girls.  I  only  ask  that  she  may  be  freed  from 
suffering.  Have  you  any  real  faith  in  that  proposed 
operation,  or  even  that — that  she  will  live  through  it? 
You  have  been  trying  to  'build  her  up/  but  she  appears 
to  be  running  down  instead." 

"I  know,  dear,  her  case  does  seem  to  be  very  trying, 
although  I  see  no  especial  cause  for  anxiety.  I  hope 
when  the  season  is  more  advanced  and  you  go  to  the 
mountains  she  will  improve  more  rapidly.  But  how 
would  you  like  to  change  the  treatment?"  And  Dr. 
Stanley  bent  a  searching  look  upon  the  troubled  face 
beside  him. 

"Have  some  one  else?" 

"Yes;  try  another  specialist." 

"No,  Philip;  we  have  tried  everything — every  school, 
and  countless  specialists,  for  eight  years,"  said  Mrs. 


136  KATHERINE'S 

Seabrook,  wearily.  "I  have  more  confidence  in  you 
than  in  anyone  else,  for  I  know  that  you  are  putting 
your  whole  heart  into  the  case,  and  yet " 

"What  is  it,  Emelie?  Do  not  fear  to  speak  your 
mind  freely,"  said  her  brother,  encouragingly. 

"Phillip,  what  do  you  think  of  the  Christian  Scien- 
tists? Would  it  be  too  ridiculous  to  try  their  method 
for  a  while  ?"  she  faltered,  and  flushing  crimson. 

Dr.  Stanley  smiled. 

"Has  Dorothy  been  talking  to  you  also  about  the 
miracles  of  nineteen  hundred  years  ago?"  he  inquired, 
evasively. 

"No;  what  do  you  mean?" 

He  related  his  recent  conversation  with  his  niece  on 
the  subject,  and  told  of  his  promise  to  read  the  Scrip- 
ture references  she  had  given  him. 

"I  kept  my  word,"  he  said,  in  conclusion,  "and  be- 
came so  interested  that  I  read  the  account  of  every 
miracle  that  Christ  and  His  apostles  performed." 

"Oh !  Dorrie  never\ires  of  reading  or  of  asking 
questions  about  them,"  returned  Mrs.  Seabrook;  "but 
that  has  had  nothing  to  do  with  my  thought.  Some- 
thing very  queer  has  occurred  during  the  last  twenty- 
four  hours.  You  remember  I  spoke  to  you  yesterday 
regarding  Miss  Reynolds'  illness?" 

"Yes ;  you  thought  her  condition  rather  serious,  I 
believe." 

"Phillip,  she  really  was  very  ill ;  I  was  thoroughly 
alarmed  about  her.  Always,  before  this,  when  she 
has  had  these  attacks,  she  has  been  very  willing  to  have 
a  physician,  but  this  time  she  flatly  refused  to  let  me 


SHEAVES  137 

call  anyone.  Last  night  she  was  worse  than  I  ever  saw 
her,  and  Miss  Minturn  took  care  of  her." 

"Ah !"  ejaculated  Dr.  Stanley,  in  a  peculiar  tone. 

"You  know,  perhaps,  that  Miss  Minturn  is  a  Chris- 
tian Scientist?"  said  his  sister,  inquiringly. 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  went  to  Miss  Reynolds'  room  late  last  night 
and,  truly,  I  came  away  in  fear  and  trembling.  I 
could  not  sleep  well  because  of  anxiety  on  her  account. 
This  morning,  however,  Miss  Minturn  told  me,  in  her 
quiet  way,  that  she  was  'more  comfortable.'  But  you 
can  imagine  my  astonishment  when  I  went  to  see  the 
woman,  less  than  an  hour  ago,  and  found  her  up  and 
dressed,  having  just  finished  a  dinner  of  roast  beef  and 
vegetables — in  fact,  our  regular  Saturday  menu — pie 
and  all." 

"What !  with  all  that  fever  ?"  exclaimed  Dr.  Stanley, 
aghast. 

"Well,  that  was  the  queerest  thing  about  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Seabrook,  in  a  tone  of  perplexity;  "there  wasn't 
a  sign  of  fever  about  her  and  the  swelling  of  her  throat 
was  all  gone.  But  for  looking  a  trifle  pale  and  hollow- 
eyed,  she  seemed  nearly  as  well  as  ever.  She  would 
not  talk  of  herself,  though ;  she  just  evaded  our 
questions — Miss  Williams  was  with  me — but  ran  on 
about  Dorothy  and  school  matters  in  general,  as  lively 
as  a  cricket.  Now,  putting  this  and  that  together,  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  Miss  Minturn  had  something 
to  do  with  this  wonderful  change.  What  do  you 
think?"  she  concluded,  turning  to  her  brother  with  an 
eager  look. 


138  KATHERINE'S 

"I  would  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  she  had,"  Dr. 
Stanley  gravely  observed. 

"You  'would  not  be  at  all  surprised' !  Then,  Phillip, 
you  do  believe  in  Christian  Science  healing,  after  all !" 
exclaimed  his  sister,  almost  breathlessly. 

"No,  I  do  not  'believe'  in  it,  and  yet  I  know  that 
strange,  even  marvelous,  things  are  done  in  its  name," 
Phillip  Stanley  replied.  "Has  Will  never  told  you  that 
I  suggested  we  try  it  before  having  Dorrie  submit  to 
an  operation  ?"  he  added,  after  a  moment  of  thought. 

"No,  he  has  never  mentioned  the  subject  to  me." 

"Well,  I  did,"  and  then  the  young  man  proceeded  to 
relate  the  incident  that  had  occurred  on  the  Ii'ernia 
during  his  return  passage  and  his  subsequent  conversa- 
tion with  his  brother-in-law.^ 

"While  I  have  no  faith  in  it  as  a  'demonstrable  sci- 
ence,' "  he  continued,  "and  while  there  is  much  that,  to 
me,  seems  absurdly  inconsistent  in  what  they  teach,  I 
am  not  so  egotistical  and  obstinate  as  to  utterly  re- 
pudiate, with  a  supercilious  wave  of  the  hand,  any 
method  of  healing  that  could  do  what  I  know  was  done 
for  that  suffering  child  last  fall.  And,  my  dear  sister, 
I  am  sure  I  do  not  need  to  tell  you  that  I  would  be  will- 
ing to  yield  everything — go  to  any  legitimate  length  to 
save  our  Dorrie  from  a  trying  ordeal,  which,  after  all, 
might  not  bring  the  result  we  hope  for.  It  is  a  ques- 
tion that  remains  to  be  proved,  you  know,"  he  con- 
cluded, gently. 

"Do  not  think  for  a  moment,"  he  presently  resumed, 
"that  I  believe  Christian  Science  could  cure  her;  at  the 
same  time  I  would  not  object  to  giving  it  a  trial — 


SHEAVES  139 

making  a  test — to  see  if  it  would  relieve  her  present 
suffering." 

"Why  not  test  it  upon  yourself,  Phil?"  his  sister 
abruptly  demanded. 

The  man  started,  then  flushed. 

"You  refer  to  my  imperfect  sight?" 

"Yes,  of  course ;  you  need  it  for  nothing  else." 

"Pshaw!  Emelie;  there  is  nothing  that  can  mend  a 
dislocated  optic  nerve,"  returned  the  physician,  with 
an  impatient  shrug.  *•— - 

They  walked  on  some  distance  farther,  both  intent 
upon  the  subject  which  they  had  been  discussing. 

"Well,  Phillip,  I  am  going  to  ask  Will  to  try  what  it 
will  do  for  Dorothy,"  Mrs.  Seabrook  at  length  asserted, 
in  a  resolute  tone.  "Of  course,  if  it  is  only  mental 
treatment,  it  cannot  do  the  child  any  harm,  even  if  it 
does  her  no  good." 

"I  hope  you  may  succeed,  dear,  in  winning  his  con- 
sent," her  brother  returned.  "He  was  rather  short  with 
me  about  it,  and  I  could  see  that,  for  some  reason,  he 
was  quite  stirred  up  over  the  subject." 

"I  think  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  refuse  to 
make  a  trial  of  it,  after  we  have  spent  years  fruitlessly 
testing  other  things,"  was  the  somewhat  sharp  reply. 
Then  she  added,  as  she  turned  her  face  towards  home : 
"I  think  I  will  have  to  go  back  now,  Phil.  I  have 
been  out  nearly  an  hour,  and  I  must  not  impose  upon 
Miss  Minturn.  This  walk  and  talk  have  done  me 
good,  though.  I  feel  both  cheered  and  refreshed." 

They  walked  briskly  back  to  the  seminary,  chatting 
socially  on  various  topics,  and  Dr.  Stanley  was  glad 
to  see  a  healthful  glow  upon  his  companion's  cheeks 


HO  KATHERINE'S 

and  a  brighter  look  in  her  eyes  by  the  time  they  en- 
tered the  building. 

They  found  Katherine  reading  the  ninety-first  psalm 
to  Dorothy,  who  was  lying  restfully  among  her  pillows, 
with  a  look  of  peace  in  her  eyes  that  was  like  balm  to 
the  mother's  aching  heart. 

The  moment  Phillip  Stanley  caught  sight  of  Kath- 
erine he  settled  his  chin  with  a  resolute  air,  a  sudden 
purpose  taking  form  in  his  thought. 

"Emelie,"  he  said,  in  his  sister's  ear,  "will  you  man- 
age so  that  I  can  have  a  few  minutes'  conversation 
with  Miss  Minturn  ?" 

She  nodded,  giving  him  a  bright  look,  then  went  for- 
ward to  Dorothy's  side,  while  Dr.  Stanley  turned  to 
greet  Katherine,  who  had  risen  upon  their  appearance. 


SHEAVES  141 


CHAPTER  XL 

Dr.  Stanley  Asks  Some  Questions. 

"We  meet  occasionally,  Miss  Minturn,"  Dr.  Stanley 
observed  in  a  genial  tone,  as  he  cordially  extended  his 
hand  to  her.  "I  hope  everything  is  progressing  satis- 
factorily in  the  junior  class." 

"As  far  as  I  know,  all  is  well,"  she  returned,  her 
scarlet  lips  parting  in  a  smile  that  just  showed  the  tips 
of  her  white  teeth,  though  she  flushed  slightly  under 
her  companion's  glance.  "I  can  speak  with  authority 
for  only  one,  however.  I  am  compelled  to  work  pretty 
diligently ;  but  I  rather  enjoy  that." 

"I  am  sure  you  do.  I  recall  a  fluent  reading  from 
Horace,  which  I  inadvertently  interrupted  on  the 
Ivernia,  last  fall,  and  which  must  have  required  earnest 
application ;  and  I  also  remember  that  that  same  stu- 
dent could  not  be  tempted  from  her  task  until  the  lesson 
was  done,"  the  gentleman  rejoined,  jocosely.  Then 
turning  to  Dorothy,  he  inquired : 

"And  how  does  my  small  niece  find  herself  this  af- 
ternoon ?" 

"Miss  Minturn,  I  have  enjoyed  my  walk  more  than 
I  can  tell  you,"  said  Mrs.  Seabrook,  as  she  removed 
her  hat  and  wrap,  but  wondering  at  the  unaccustomed 
crimson  in  the  girl's  cheeks.  "And  now,"  she  added, 
"if  you  have  time  I  would  like  to  show  you  a  portfolio 


142  KATHERINE'S 

of  engravings  which  Prof.  Seabrook  received  last  week 
from  an  old  classmate  who  is  now  abroad." 

Katherine  could  never  resist  fine  pictures,  and  fol- 
lowed her  hostess  into  an  adjoining  room,  where  the 
portfolio  was  placed  upon  a  table,  and  she  was  invited 
to  inspect  its  contents  at  her  leisure,  Mrs.  Seabrook 
excusing  herself  to  prepare  some  nourishment  for 
Dorothy. 

Katherine  found  many  of  the  engravings  to  be 
copies  of  paintings  by  some  of  the  great  masters,  and 
which  she  had  seen,  in  various  galleries,  the  previous 
summer.  They  were  very  finely  executed,  and  she  be- 
came so  absorbed  in  them  that  she  was  unconscious  of 
the  presence  of  anyone  until  Dr.  Stanley's  smooth, 
cultured  tones  fell  upon  her  startled  ears. 

"That  is  a  beautiful  thing,  Miss  Minturn,"  he  ob- 
served, bending  nearer  to  look  more  closely  at  a  copy 
of  a  section  of  the  'Creation'  as  painted  on  the  ceiling 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel  in  the  Vatican  at  Rome.  "The 
foreshortening  and  perspective  there  is  wonderful ! 
Michael  Angelo  was  the  master  of  them  all !  Of 
course,  you  have  seen  many  of  the  wonders  of  that 
great  storehouse  of  art?" 

"Yes;  mamma  and  I  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  in 
the  Vatican.  What  a  treasure  vault  it  is !"  Katherine 
replied,  and  then,  as  she  turned  other  pictures  to  view, 
they  fell  to  talking  of  scenes  familiar  to  them  both. 

At  length  she  came  upon  a  reproduction  of  the  heal- 
ing of  the  lame  man  by  Peter,  at  the  "Gate  Beautiful" 
of. the  Temple  in  Jerusalem. 

It  was  full  of  strength  and  life,  as  well  as  of  touches 


SHEAVES  143 

of  beauty  and  pathos,  and  the  girl's  face  lighted  with 
keen  appreciation  as  she  saw  it. 

"That  is  a  queer  story,"  Dr.  Stanley  observed,  and 
eagerly  seizing  the  opportunity  for  which  he  had  been 
waiting. 

"Queer?"  repeated  Katherine,  inquiringly. 

"Yes;  it  seems  so  to  me.  Do  you  believe  that  man 
— Peter,  I  believe,  was  his  name — performed  that  cure 
instantaneously,  as  related?" 

"No;  but  God  did,  working  through  him,"  said 
Katherine. 

"You  firmly  believe  that  such  an  incident  really  oc- 
curred ?" 

"I  certainly  do." 

"And  you  just  as  firmly  believe  that  such  healing 
can  be  done  now?" 

The  girl  lifted  a  quick,  searching  look  to  her  com- 
panion, half  expecting  to  see  the  skeptical  curl,  which 
she  so  well  remembered,  wreathing  his  mobile  lips. 

But,  instead,  she  found  herself  looking  into  a  pair 
of  grave,  earnest  blue  eyes,  and  there  was  no  sign  of 
levity  or  derision  in  the  fine  face. 

"Yes,  it  has  been  done  many  times  during  the  last 
thirty  years,"  she  quietly  replied. 

"Do  you  speak  from  actual  knowledge  or  only  from 
hearsay  ?" 

"Both.  I  know  of  two  cases,  and  my  mother  could 
tell  you  of  several  others." 

"Do  you  believe  that  Dorothy  could  be  healed  ?  made 
straight  and  well?" 

"Oh,  Dr.  Stanley!"  Katherine  breathed,  with  lu- 
minous eyes.  "Yes,  indeed  !  yes.  Will  they  try  the  Sci- 


144  KATHERINE'S 

ence  for  her?  Oh!  how  I  have  yearned  to  have  that 
dear  child  made  whole!" 

Her  face  was  so  radiant  with  hope,  yet  so  softly 
tender  and  so  beautiful,  the  physician  was  deeply 
moved. 

"I  cannot  say  as  to  that,"  he  replied.  "But  will 
you  tell  me,  Miss  Minturn,  what,  in  your  method,  heals 
the  sick?"  «^ 

"God — the  power  that  created  the  universe  and  holds 
it  in  His  grasp,  who  'spake  and  it  was  done.'  " 

"Ah !  but  that  is  so  vague,  so  intangible,  I  cannot 
comprehend  your  meaning,"  said  the  man,  with  an  im- 
patient shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders.  "I  do  not  doubt 
the  existence  of  God,"  he  continued,  "nor  His  om- 
nipotence, for.  I  believe  that  the  Creator  must  have  all 
power  over  His  own  creation.  But  how — how  can  suf- 
fering humanity  avail  itself  of  that  power?  If  I  could 
grasp  that — if  I  were  sure  it  could  be  done  by  a  really 
scientific  process,  I  would  never  again  prescribe  a  drug 
or  touch  a  surgical  instrument." 

He  spoke  with  evident  emotion,  almost  passionately, 
for  they  could  hear  Dorothy  sobbing,  from  the  return- 
ing pain,  in  the  other  room,  and,  with  all  his  learning 
and  experience,  the  man  had  a  heart-sickening  sense  of 
discouragement  in  view  of  his  own  and  others'  help- 
lessness to  cope  with  that  demon  of  torture  which  was 
surely  destroying  his  niece  and,  indirectly,  wearing  to 
a  shadow  his  only  sister. 

"You  say  you  believe  in  God — that  you  do  not  doubt 
His  power ;  but  is  that  statement  of  your  attitude  quite 
true,  Dr.  Stanley?"  Katherine  gently  inquired.  "If 
you  really  believed  it,  if  all  who  claim  that  they  have 


SHEAVES  145 

faith  in  an  omnipotent  God  really  believed  it,  would 
you  or  they  ever  assume  that  drugs  or  surgical  instru- 
ments were  needed  to  assist  God  to  do  His  work?" 

"Jove !  that  is  an  argument  that  has  never  occurred 
to  me  before !"  Phillip  Stanley  exclaimed.  "But,"  he 
went  on,  doubtfully,  "the  curse  came,  and  man  was 
driven  to  do  something  to  mitigate  it ;  and  it  has  been 
conceded,  all  down  the  ages,  that  these  same  doctors 
and  material  remedies  are  agencies  that  were  required 
and  provided  by  an  all-wise  Providence  for  that  pur- 
pose." 

"Yes,  man,  in  his  arrogance,  has  claimed  that,  and 
so  has  practically  denied  the  omnipotence  of  God.  But 
this  same  God  has  said,  over  and  over,  'Whatsoever  ye 
ask  ye  shall  receive,'  and  'Come  unto  me  all  ye  that 
are  weary  and  heavy-laden  and  I  will  give  you  rest.' 
But  he  has  never  said,  'Ask  to  be  healed  of  disease  and 
I  will  send  you  doctors,  to  experiment  with  drugs,  roots 
and  herbs,  and  mechanical  appliances;'  or,  'if  ye  are 
worn  out  with  care  and  heavy-laden  with  suffering  they 
shall  build  you  costly  sanitariums,  wherein  to  rest  and 
be  treated.'  But  only  the  rich  or  a  favored  few  may 
avail  themselves  of  these.  If  these  remedies  or  retreats 
were  infallible  and  could  reach  all  mankind,  there 
might  be  some  plausibility  in  such  arguments ;  but  such 
is  not  the  case,  as  you  must  know.  Where,  in  God's 
Word,  which  is  conceded  to  be  the  guide  for  humanity, 
do  you  find  authority  for  them?"  Katherine  inquired, 
in  conclusion. 

"You  have  me  there,  Miss  Minturn,"  rejoined  her 
companion,  with  a  quizzical  smile;  "honesty  compels 
me  to  confess  that  I  have  not  been  much  of  a  Bible 


146  KATHERINE'S 

student,  at  least  of  late  years.  But  allow  me  to  say 
that  your  arguments  against  doctors,  drugs  and  hos- 
pitals are  very  quaint,  not  to  say  convincing,"  he 
added,  with  an  amused  laugh. 

"Well,  let  me  assure  you  that  you  cannot  find  an 
instance,  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  where  God  com- 
mands man  to  call  upon  physicians,  or  to  use  ma- 
terial remedies  for  sickness  any  more  than  for  sin," 
Katherine  continued,  earnestly.  "But  we  do  find  many 
injunctions  to  depend  upon  Him  alone  in  such  ex- 
tremity. In  Deuteronomy  we  read,  'And  the  Lord 
will  take  away  from  thee  all  sickness.'  Again,  we  are 
told  what  the  penalty  is  for  not  calling  upon  Him — 
'Asa  died  because  he  sought  the  physicians  and  not 
unto  God.'  David  tells  us,  'It  is  God  who  healeth  all 
our  diseases,'  and  there  are  many  more  passages  I 
could  quote  to  prove  the  point." 

"But  why,  if  that  is  the  only  right  way,  has  not  God 
made  it  so  plain  that  no  one  could  go  astray?"  ques- 
tioned Dr.  Stanley. 

"He  has  made  it  plain,  and  man  would  not  go  astray 
if  he  were  obedient ;  but,  in  his  arrogance  and  egotism, 
he  has  ignored  God  and  'sought  out  many  inventions'* 
to  rob  Him  of  His  prerogative,"  said  Katherine. 

"Well,  to  go  back  still  farther,  why  has  God  per- 
mitted such  evils  and  untold  misery  to  exist  in  the 
world?"  thoughtfully  inquired  the  gentleman. 

"He  has  not  'permitted'  it,"  the  girl  positively  de- 
clared. 

*Eccles.,  7.29. 


SHEAVES  147 

"Isn't  that  rather  a  bold  assertion,  if  God  is  om- 
nipotent?" Phillip  Stanley  demanded,  in  surprise. 

"No;  for  He  asserts  that  He  looks  on  evil  with  'no 
degree  of  allowance.'  For  instance,  you  are  supposed 
to  be  supreme  in  the  sick  room,  your  word  law ;  but  if 
your  patient  ignores  your  directions  and  remedies  and 
substitutes  others  in  place  of  them,  you  are  not  'per- 
mitting' such  willful  disobedience.  But  the  patient 
suffers  for  it  none  the  less,  and  you  are  in  no  way  re- 
sponsible for  his  condition.  So  mortals,  in  their  pre- 
sumption and  perverseness,  have  become  idolaters,  have 
set  up  false  gods  or  devices  to  rob  God  of  His  power. 
Take  another  illustration :  Truth  and  honesty  are  su- 
preme in  their  realm,  but  there  are  people  who  prefer 
to  He  when  truth  would  serve  them  better,  and  who 
would  rather  steal  than  get  an  honest  living.  But 
truth  and  honesty  do  not  permit — are  not  responsible 
for  such  perversion.  Until  the  liar  and  the  thief  turn 
to  truth  and  honesty,  to  reclaim  them,  they  will  suffer 
from  the  results  of  their  sins ;  they  cannot  substitute 
anything  else." 

"I  see  your  point,  Miss  Minturn,  and  you  have  given 
me  something  to  think  of.  You  argue,  too,  like  a  ver- 
itable doctor  of  divinity,"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  with  a 
smile. 

"Oh !  no,  I  do  not,"  retorted  Katherine,  with  a  ro- 
guish gleam  in  her  brown  eyes ;  "for,  let  your  doctor 
of  divinity  get  sick  and  he  will  argue  for  material 
remedies  every  time." 

"That  is  true,  and  my  intellect,  my  education  and 
experience  prompt  me  to  reason  from  the  same  stand- 
point," was  the  grave  response.  "My  professional 


148  KATHERINE'S 

pride  also  cries  out  'Absurd !  Impossible !  Imprac- 
tical !'  But  I  dearly  love  that  little  girl  in  there," 
and  the  man's  voice  grew  gentle  as  a  woman's  and 
trembled  in  spite  of  his  manhood,  as  he  glanced  to- 
wards the  adjoining  room.  "I  love  my  sister,  whose 
life  is  a  mental  and  physical  martyrdom,  and  I  would 
sacrifice  all  I  have — yea,  even  professional  authority 
and  pride — to  bring  health  and  happiness  to  them. 
There  is  one  thing  left  to  try  for  Dorothy,  to  relieve 
that  pain — only  one;  but  my  heart  shrinks,  revolts 
from  it.  That  is  why  I  have  sought  this  conversation 
with  you,  Miss  Minturn,  hoping  to  get  a  little  insight 
regarding  your  methods ;  and,  while  I  do  not  grasp  the 
so-called  'science'  of  it  at  all,  I  am  impressed  that  you 
Scientists  have  something  that  we  physicians  have  not. 
But  I  marvel  at  your  profound  thought  upon  such  a 
subject  at  your  age." 

"You  would  not  marvel  at  my  ability  to  elucidate  a 
difficult  problem  in  trigonometry?"  said  Katherine, 
smiling. 

"No,  for  that  would  be  a  natural  outgrowth  of  your 
education." 

"Yes,  and  the  same  argument  holds  good  regarding 
what  we  have  been  talking  of,"  was  the  quick  response. 
"I  have  been  taught  it  from  my  youth  up,  and  although 
I  know  but  very  little  of  Christian  Science,  for  it  is 
infinite,  yet  what  I  have  learned  I  know  just  as  clearly 
as  I  know  certain  statements  in  the  'History  of  the 
United  States';  yes,  far  more  clearly,"  she  interposed, 
with  a  little  laugh,  "for  I  am  obliged  to  take  the  his- 
torian's account  for  granted,  in  part,  while  I  can  dem- 
onstrate, prove  Christian  Science  for  myself." 


SHEAVES  149 

Dr.  Stanley's  shapely  brows  were  arched  ever  so 
slightly  at  this  assertion. 

"Have  you  ever  done  any  healing,  Miss  Minturn?" 
he  inquired.  "Have  you  ever  cured  anyone  of  a  severe 
illness?" 

Katherine  flushed  under  his  glance  and  question. 

"A  person  cannot  be  said  to  know  very  much  about 
mathematics  unless  he  is  able  to  demonstrate  mathe- 
matical problems,"  she  observed,  after  a  moment  of 
hesitation. 

"I  see ;  you  mean  that  anyone  who  acquires  the  prin- 
ciples of  Christian  Science  can  demonstrate  it  by  heal- 
ing the  sick?" 

"Yes.  It  is  the  Christ-science,  or  the  Science  of 
Christianity,  as  demonstrated  and  taught  by  Jesus,  who 
said,  The  works  that  I  do  shall  ye  do  also  if  ye  be- 
lieve in  Me.'  So  anyone  who  conscientiously  investi- 
gates it,  from  an  honest  desire  to  know  the  Truth,  will 
grow  into  the  practice  of  it." 

"Miss  Minturn,  do  you  believe  that  you  could  help 
Dorothy?"  earnestly  inquired  Phillip  Stanley. 

"I  know  that  she  could  be  helped  under  right  condi- 
tions ;  and  I  wish — I  feel  sure  that  my  mother's  under- 
standing is  sufficient  to  meet  the  case,"  she  thought- 
fully returned. 

'  'Under  right  conditions,'  what  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

"Dorothy  would  have  to  be  willing  to  be  treated,  and 
the  consent  of  Prof,  and  Mrs.  Seabrook  would  also  be 
necessary." 

"Then  nothing  could  be  done  for  her  by  your  method 


150  KATHERINE'S 

except  under  those  conditions  ?"  and  Dr.  Stanley's  tone 
conveyed  a  sense  of  disappointment. 

"No ;  it  would  not  be  right — it  would  be  interfering 
where  one  would  have  no  authority  to  intrude." 

"But  it  would  be  doing  good;  that  is  always  justi- 
fiable, is  it  not?  even  if  the  child  could  be  given  but 
one  night's  peaceful  rest  to  prove  its  efficacy." 

"Some  physicians  believe  in  hypnotism ;  do  you  ?" 
Katherine  inquired,  with  apparent  irrelevancy. 

"Well,  under  certain  circumstances,  it  might  be  em- 
ployed to  advantage,  but,  as  a  rule,  I  am  opposed  to  it." 

"We  utterly  repudiate  it  as  a  very  dangerous  and 
demoralizing  practice;  but,  Dr.  Stanley,  would  you 
think  it  right,  under  any  circumstances,  for  a  person 
to  hypnotize  you  without  your  consent?*^. 

"Indeed  I  would  not;  it  would  be  a^fcastardly  act," 
emphatically  declared  the  physician. 

"On  the  same  principle,  Christian  Scientists  feel  that 
they  have  no  right  to  treat,  or  try  to  influence  anyone 
mentally,  even  to  do  good,  without  permission,"  Kath- 
erine explained,  as  she  arose,  thinking,  perhaps,  enough 
had  been  said  on  the  subject. 

"Just  one  moment,  please,  Miss  Minturn,"  said  the 
gentleman,  detaining  her.  "There  is  one  thing  more  I 
would  like  to  speak  of.  Will  you  kindly  look  me  di- 
rectly in  the  eyes?" 

Somewhat  surprised,  Katherine  turned  her  glance 
upon  his  and  looked  searchingly  into  those  fine  eyes 
so  deeply  blue,  but  flushing  as  she  did  so. 

"Can  you  detect  any  difference  in  them?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"No,  I  cannot,"  she  said,  and  knowing  now  why  he 


SHEAVES  151 

had  asked  it,  for  she  remembered  what  Miss  Reynolds 
had  told  her. 

"Well,  there  is,"  he  affirmed,  "for  I  am  blind  in  my 
left  eye,  although  scarcely  anyone  would  observe  it; 
at  least  I  can  only  discern  light  from  darkness.  It 
was  caused  by  an  accident  when  I  was  a  child.  Do 
you  believe,  Miss  Minturn,  that  normal  sight  could  be 
restored  to  that  eye  ?" 

"I  know  that  it  could,"  Katherine  began. 

"Yes,  of  course,  you  know  that  God  has  power  to 
restore  it,"  her  companion  interposed ;  "but  do  you  be- 
lieve any  practitioner  would  take  my  case  and  encour- 
age me  to  hope  for  such  a  result  ?" 

"Assuredly,"  said  the  girl,  with  unwavering  con- 
fidence. 

"Truly,  your  faith  is  unbounded,"  Phillip  Stanley 
observed,  with  a  smile  in  which  there  was  a  glimmer 
of  skepticism.  "I  wish  it  could  find  an  echo  in  my  own 
heart,  for  I  would  give  a  great  deal  for  so  priceless  a 
boon.  But  where  do  your  practitioners  go  to  learn 
their  method  ?" 

"To  our  text-book,  'Science  and  Health.'    It " 

"That  little  leather-covered  book  I  used  to  see  you 
reading  on  shipboard?" 

"Yes ;  it  contains  the  whole  of  Christian  Science,  and, 
Dr.  Stanley" — with  a  significant  nod — "he  who  will 
may  read." 

"I  understand" — with  a  responsive  laugh — "one  has 
to  put  forth  individual  effort  in  order  to  acquire  valu- 
able knowledge.  Pray  pardon  me  for  detaining  you 
so  long,  and  possibly  I  may  ask  to  talk  with  you  fur- 
ther after  I  have  consulted  my  sister  and  her  husband. 


152  KATHERINE'S 

Really,  Miss  Minturn" — he  interposed  in  a  deprecatory 
tone  and  flushing  with  a  sense  of  the  incongruity  of  his 
position — "I  am  afraid  I  am  rather  faithless,  but  some- 
thing impels  me  to  suggest  that  a  trial  be  given  the 
Science  treatment  before  the  adoption  of  severe  meas- 
ures. Good-afternoon,  and  thank  you  for  your  cour- 
tesy and  patience." 

He  shook  hands  cordially  with  her,  then  bowed  him- 
self away. 


SHEAVES  153 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Prof.  Seabrook's   Ultimatum — and  Broken  Rules. 

Dr.  Stanley,  after  sitting  a  while  with  Dorothy,  to 
watch  the  effect  of  a  remedy  given  to  relieve  her  suf- 
fering, went  directly  back  to  the  city,  wearing  a  very 
thoughtful  face. 

Upon  reaching  his  office,  and  finding  no  one  await- 
ing him,  he  picked  up  a  book  from  his  desk  and  went 
out  again,  directing  his  steps  towards  the  public  library. 

Arriving  there,  he  searched  the  catalogue  and,  at 
length,  finding  the  title  he  desired,  wrote  the  number 
on  his  card  and  presented  his  book  to  be  exchanged. 

When  the  wished-for  volume  was  handed  to  him  he 
opened  the  cover  and  glanced  at  the  title  page,  reading 
therefrom,  "Science  and  Health,  with  Key  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, by  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy."  A  peculiar  smile,  in 
which  there  may  have  been  a  trace  of  self-contempt, 
wreathed  his  lips  as  he  slipped  it  under  his  arm  and 
then  made  his  way  from  the  building. 

He  stopped  at  a  cafe  near  by  and  partook  of  a  light 
meal,  after  which  he  returned  to  his  office  and  read 
from  his  book  as  long  as  daylight  lasted,  without  once 
laying  it  aside.  Then,  lighting  a  student  lamp,  he  be- 
came absorbed  again,  reading  on  until  the  clock  struck 
ten. 

"There  is  much  I  do  not  understand !  much  I  cannot 


154  KATHERINE'S 

grasp !"  he  exclaimed,  a  note  of  impatience  in  his  voice, 
and  the  perplexing  work  was  tossed  somewhat  irrever- 
ently upon  the  table.  "It  so  radically  reverses  precon- 
ceived ideas  and  opinions;  it  seems  so  abstruse,  vague 
and  intangible,  it  irritates  me.  And  yet,  in  the  light 
of  what  Mrs.  Minturn  and  her  daughter  have  told  me, 
I  believe  I  have  caught  a  glimpse,  here  and  there,  of 
the  meaning  of  some  of  its  statements.  It  is  like  trying 
to  march  through  a  tangled  wilderness,"  he  continued, 
as  he  picked  up  the  book  again  and  slowly  slipped  the 
leaves  through  his  fingers ;  "but  I'll  read  the  thing 
through,  now  that  I  have  begun  it,  though  I  have  a 
suspicion  that  I  shall  only  get  deeper  into  an  impene- 
trable thicket." 

While  Phillip  Stanley  was  thus  engaged,  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook  was  earnestly  discussing  the  same  subject  with 
her  husband.  She  related  to  him  her  recent  conversa- 
tion with  her  brother,  also  her  suspicions  regarding 
what  had  so  almost  miraculously  banished  Miss  Rey- 
nolds' severe  malady,  and  repeated  some  things  which 
she  had  overheard  during  her  brother's  interview  with 
Katherine. 

Prof.  Seabrook,  usually  so  considerate  and  tender  in 
all  his  relations  with  his  dear  ones — such  a  gentle  man 
in  every  sense  of  the  word — sat  listening  with  averted 
face  and  brow  heavily  overcast,  his  finely  chiseled  lips 
compressed  into  an  obstinate,  rigid  line. 

"William,  do  let  us  give  it  a  trial ;  it  certainly  could 
do  no  harm,  and  it  might  give  Dorrie  some  relief  from 
the  pain,"  pleaded  his  wife,  but  studying  the  unsym- 
pathetic face  opposite  her  with  mingled  anxiety  and 
surprise. 


SHEAVES  155 

There  was  an  awkward  silence  when  she  concluded ; 
but  at  length  her  companion  observed,  in  a  repressed 
tone: 

"Emelie,  Phillip  and  I  have  already  discussed  this 
subject." 

"I  know ;  he  has  told  me,  Will ;  but  I  thought,  per- 
haps, after  you  had  given  the  matter  more  considera- 
tion, in  view  of  these  recent  developments,  you  might 
think  more  favorably  of  it,"  Mrs.  Seabrook  eagerly  in- 
terposed. 

"But  I  do  not  think  more  favorably  of  it,"  was  the 
cold  response. 

"But  why?  What  possible  objection  can  you  have 
to  giving  the  method  a  trial?"  queried  Mrs.  Seabrook 
and  flushing  with  momentary  indignation  at  his  intol- 
erant attitude.  "You  have  eagerly  welcomed  and  tried 
everything  that  numerous  physicians  have  suggested 
and  which,  after  years  of  patient  experimenting,  have 
clone  absolutely  no  good.  I  cannot  understand  why 
you  should  be  so  obstinately  opposed  to  what  anyone 
can  see,  can  do  no  possible  harm,  even  if  no  permanent 
relief  is  derived  from  it." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  that  'no  harm'  would  result  from 
it,"  the  professor  observed,  in  an  inflexible  voice. 

"I  wish  you  would  explain  what  you  mean,  Will,  and 
not  hold  yourself  so  obscurely  aloof  from  the  subject," 
returned  his  wife,  with  unusual  spirit  and  an  unaccus- 
tomed spark  in  her  mild  eyes.  "I  am  not  a  child,  to 
be  merely  told  that  a  thing  is  not  good  for  me,  and  con- 
sequently cannot  have  it.  If  there  is  a  good  and  suf- 
ficient reason  why  Dorothy  shall  not  have  Christian 
Science  treatment,  I  would  like  to  know  what  it  is. 


156  KATHERINE'S 

For  eight  years  I,  as  well  as  my  child,  have  been  a 
martyr  in  a  chamber  of  torture,  and  my  burden  is 
growing  heavier  than  I  can  bear." 

Her  lips  quivered  and  her  voice  broke  with  those 
last  words. 

Her  husband  reached  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  caress- 
ingly against  her  face,  drawing  her  head  down  upon 
his  shoulder.  +" 

"I  know  it,  sweetheart,"  he  said,  with  tremulous 
tenderness,  "and  my  own  heart  rebels  against  it  every 
day  of  my  life.  Perhaps  I  have  seemed  arrogant  in 
my  attitude  toward  what  you  have  suggested.  I  feel 
so.  I  am  utterly  intolerant  of  Christian  Science  and 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"But  why,  Will  ?  You  do  not  state  any  reason.  Why 
do  you  condemn  it  without  a  trial — without  investiga- 
tion? You  know  nothing  about  it " 

"I  know  all  I  wish,"  the  man  interrupted,  with  curl- 
ing lips.  "I  have  never  mentioned  the  fact,  but  I  have 
read  the  Christian  Science  text-book  and  have  found  it 
to  be  a  conglomeration  of  the  most  absurd  statements, 
theories  and  contradictions  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to 
peruse.  As  a  matter  of  principle,  as  a  Christian,  I 
abjure  its  teachings,  for  they  are  diametrically  opposed 
to  my  religious  views;  and  as  a  D.D.  and  a  Ph.D.  I 
feel  that  I  should  be  subjecting  myself  to  the  rankest 
criticism  and  ridicule  were  I  to  give  it  countenance  in 
any  way  whatsoever.  I  do  not  stand  alone  in  my  at- 
titude, by  any  means,  for  the  book  has  been  discussed 
in  our  Philosophical  Association,  which,  as  you  well 
know,  is  composed  of  some  of  the  brightest  men  and 
most  profound  thinkers  in  the  State;  and  it  was  ut- 


SHEAVES  157 

terly  repudiated  and  denounced  as  fallacious  and  un- 
Christian  in  its  teachings,  and  calculated  to  do  ines- 
timable harm.  The  idea  of  an  obscure  woman  setting 
herself  up  as  a  reconstructor  of  the  religious  faiths  of 
the  world !  It  is  simply  the  height  of  presumption  and 
absurdity,"  he  concluded,  with  considerable  heat. 

"But  when  you  think  of  it,  how  much  better  it  would 
be  if  there  was  only  'one  Lord,  one  faith  and  one  bap- 
tism' in  the  world,  instead  of  hundreds.  How  is  any- 
one to  know  which  is  the  right  one?"  said  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook,  thoughtfully.  "We  claim  to  be  Presbyterians, 
but  we  can  offer  no  proof  that  our  creed  is  better  than 
any  other,  while  the  Christian  Scientists  claim  that  their 
healing  proves  their  religion  to  be  the  Christianity 
taught  by  the  Master." 

"Yes,  they  claim  a  great  deal ;  but  they  want  to  over- 
turn altogether  too  much  for  me  to  accept  it,"  dryly 
observed  her  husband. 

"But  they  maintain  that  it  is  founded  on  the  Bible." 

"True;  and  that  is  wherein  it  is  most  harmful.  It 
is  the  false  teaching  calculated  to  'deceive  the  very 
elect.'  Emelie,  it  irritates  me  to  talk  about  it;  let  us 
drop  it,  please,"  and  with  a  frowning  brow  the  man 
arose  and  restlessly  paced  the  floor. 

"Then  you  will  not  consent  to  try  the  healing  for 
Dorothy  ?"  and  there  was  a  plaintive  note  in  the  weary 
mother's  voice  which  smote  painfully  upon  the  hus- 
band's ears. 

"No." 

That  ended  the  conversation,  and  with  a  heavy  heart 
Mrs.  Seabrook  went  back  to  her  child  to  take  up  her 
accustomed  night  vigil,  but  with  a  secret  sense  of  in- 


158  KATHERINE'S 

justice  and  rebellion   such  as  she  had  seldom   expe- 
rienced. 

That  same  evening,  after  supper,  when  Katherine 
went  to  her  room  she  found  Sadie  dressing  to  go  out. 

The  girl  looked  flushed  and  excited,  a  condition  so 
at  variance  with  her  usual  composure  and  languid 
manner  that  Katherine  regarded  her  with  surprise. 
She  was  also  making  a  rather  elaborate  toilet,  and  she 
wondered  where  she  could  be  going. 

"Oh !  honey,"  she  exclaimed,  as  her  chum  appeared 
in  the  doorway,  "don't  you  want  to  come  with  me?" 

"Where?  Is  there  a  theater  party  on  the  tapis?" 
Katherine  inquired,  as  she  watched  a  labored  effort  to 
tie  a  coquettish  bow  at  her  throat. 

"Oh!  no;  I  have  to  go  down  to  Madam  Alberti's  for 
my  new  hat.  I  want  it  for  church  to-morrow,"  Sadie 
explained.  "I  have  permission,  but  can't  go  alone, 
you  know.  Annie  Fletcher  was  going  with  me,  but 
her  brother  has  just  come — so  that's  off." 

"Why,  yes;  I'd  like  the  walk,"  said  Katherine,  with 
animation.  "But  I  supposed,  from  the  'fuss  and  feath- 
ers' you  are  putting  on,  that  you  were  bound  either  for 
the  theater  or  to  make  a  fashionable  call." 

"Well — you  know  it  doesn't  get  dark  very  early  now, 
and  one  meets  so  many  people  on  the  street,  especially 
on  Saturday  evening,  one  must  look  passable,"  Sadie 
returned,  but  the  flush  on  her  cheeks  grew  brighter 
while  she  spoke. 

Katherine  hastily  donned  her  hat,  and,  taking  a 
light  wrap  on  her  arm,  signified  her  readiness  to  ac- 
company her. 


SHEAVES  159 

On  their  way  downstairs  Miss  Minot  stopped  at  Miss 
Williams'  door. 

"I've  got  to  tell  her  that  Annie  can't  go,  and  I  am 
taking  you  in  her  place,"  she  said,  as  she  rapped  for 
admittance.  "^ 

"Of  course,  Miss  Minturn  can  go  if  she  has  no 
special  duties,"  Miss  Williams  observed,  when  the  mat- 
ter was  explained  to  her.  "And,"  she  added,  archly, 
"I  think  the  change  is  all  for  the  best,  for  when  I  allow 
two  mischief-loving  girls,  like  you  and  Annie,  to  go 
off  by  themselves,  I  sometimes  have  rather  more  of  a 
sense  of  responsibility  than  is  comfortable." 

"Now,  Miss  Williams,  that  is  rather  hard  on  Annie 
and  me,"  drawled  Sadie,  while  the  quick  color  flew  to 
her  face  again,  "though  I'm  sure  it's  a  right  smart  com- 
pliment to  Katherine.  But  thank  you  all  the  same  for 
permission,  and — I  reckon  you'll  feel  perfectly  'com- 
fortable'— you'll  not  be  afraid  there's  any  mischief 
brewing  now,"  she  concluded,  demurely. 

"No,  indeed ;  I  know  you  are  in  excellent  hands," 
smiled  Miss  Williams,  and  the  two  girls  went  on  their 
way. 

The  walk  "downtown"  was  delightful,  for  the  even- 
ing was  balmy  and  fragrant  with  unfolding  flowers 
and  foliage.  Arriving  at  Madam  Alberti's,  they  found 
her  fashionable  rooms  filled  with  customers,  and  were 
obliged  to  wait  sometime  before  Miss  Minot  could  be 
served. 

Then,  when  the  hat  was  finally  brought,  there  was 
something  that  did  not  quite  suit  her  fastidious  taste 
and  had  to  be  changed.  By  the  time  this  was  effected 
it  had  grown  quite  dark  outside;  but  as  they  started 


160  KATHERINE'S 

out  Sadie  lingered  by  the  door  and  looked  up  and  down 
the  street  with  an  air  of  expectation,  mingled  with  some 
anxiety,  Katherine  thought. 

"Let  us  go  into  Neal's  for  a  soda  and  some  candy," 
Sadie  at  length  proposed,  and,  as  candy  was  also  one 
of  Katherine's  weaknesses,  they  stepped  into  a  con- 
fectioner's, next  door,  and  made  their  purchases. 

While  waiting  for  their  change  a  young  man,  styl- 
ishly attired,  approached  Sadie  and,  lifting  his  hat,  sa- 
luted her  with  much  empressement. 

Sadie  smiled,  blushed,  and  addressed  him  as  "Mr. 
Willard,"  then  introduced  Katherine,  who  was  begin- 
ning to  understand  some  things  that  had  puzzled  her, 
and  to  feel  quite  uncomfortable. 

They  stood  chatting  together  until  their  change  was 
handed  them,  when  they  passed  out  of  the  store,  Mr. 
Willard  taking  possession  of  Miss  Minot's  bandbox 
with  an  air  of  proprietorship  which,  to  say  the  least, 
was  suggestive. 

When  they  reached  the  first  corner  Katherine  halted. 

"I  suppose  we  will  take  a  car,  Sadie,  it  is  getting 
so  late,"  she  quietly  remarked. 

"Oh,  it  is  so  fine,  let  us  walk  back,"  said  the  girl, 
appealingly. 

Katherine  was  dismayed,  particularly  as  Mr.  Willard 
supplemented,  affably : 

"I  hope  you  can  be  persuaded.  Miss  Minturn.  It  will 
give  me  great  pleasure  to  see  you  safely  home." 

Katherine  knew  it  would  never  do.  It  would  be  a 
rank  violation  of  the  rules,  which  explicitly  stated  that 
no  young  lady  could  receive  attention  from  young 


SHEAVES  161 

men  without  permission  direct  from  the  principal,  on 
penalty  of  expulsion. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Willard ;  but  I  think  we  will  take 
a  car,"  she  courteously  but  decidedly  replied. 

"Oh,  come  now,  Katherine,  don't  be  disobliging," 
Sadie  here  interposed;  "there  can  be  no  harm  in  our 
walking  quietly  back  to  the  seminary  together.  Ned 
— er — Mr.  Willard  has  met  Prof.  Seabrook,  and  it  will 
be  all  right." 

The  slip  which  revealed  Mr.  Willard's  first  name, 
and  also  betrayed  something  of  the  intimacy  which  ex- 
isted between  the  young  couple,  appalled  Katherine, 
and  confirmed  her  suspicions  that  the  meeting  had  been 
previously  planned,  and  drove  her  to  radical  measures. 

She  turned  politely  to  the  young  man  and  observed : 

"Mr.  Willard,  if  we  had  Prof.  Seabrook's  permis- 
sion, no  doubt  the  walk  would  be  very  enjoyable;  but 
since  we  have  not,  and  the  rules  are  explicit,  I  am  sure 
you  will  appreciate  our  position  and  excuse  us.  There 
is  our  car.  Will  you  kindly  signal  for  us?" 

Of  course  there  was  nothing  for  the  gentleman  to  do 
but  obey,  which  he  did  with  an  icy : 

"Certainly,  Miss  Minturn,  and  pray  pardon  my  in- 
trusion." 

They  were  obliged  to  wait  a  moment  for  some  peo- 
ple to  alight,  and  during  the  delay  Katherine  heard 
him  say  in  an  aside  to  her  roommate : 

'INext  time,  Sadie,  don't  bring  a  prude  with  you." 

"Next  time!"  Katherine  repeated  to  herself,  with  a 
heart-bound  of  astonishment.  These  meetings,  then, 
were  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  there  was  no  telling 
what  regret  and  disgrace  her  friend  was  storing  up 


162  KATHERINE'S 

for  herself,  for  it  was  only  a  question  of  time  when 
she  would  be  found  out. 

Of  course,  she  could  not  talk  the  matter  over  with 
her  on  the  car,  but  when  they  alighted  and  were  enter- 
ing the  school  grounds  she  felt  she  must  speak  a  word 
of  caution. 

"Sadie,  did  you  have  an  appointment  to  meet  Mr. 
Willard  to-night?"  she  inquired. 

"Well,  suppose  I  did !"  was  the  defiant  retort. 

"If  you  did,  you  certainly  had  no  right  to  draw 
me  into  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Katherine,  indig- 
nantly. "It  was  not  an  honorable  thing  to  do." 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  Are  you 
going  to  give  me  away?"  demanded  the  girl,  tartly. 

Katherine  flushed. 

"I  have  no  wish  to  tell  tales  of  anyone,"  she  replied ; 
"but,  truly,  I  do  not  like  what  I  have  heard  and  seen 
to-night.  Sadie,  I  overheard  what  Mr.  Willard  said 
to  you  just  as  we  were  getting  on  the  car." 

"Lor'!  Did  you?  Well,  of  course,  he  didn't  like  it ; 
to  have  all  our  fun  spoiled  and " 

"And  it  proved  to  me  that  you  are  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  him  clandestinely,"  interposed  Katherine,  de- 
termined to  sift  the  affair  to  the  bottom. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  business  you  have  to 
meddle,"  spiritedly  began  the  girl,  when  Katherine 
checked  her  again  by  saying: 

"You  know,  Sadie,  that  my  only  thought  is  to  save 
you  from  getting  into  trouble,"  and  she  laid  a  gentle 
hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  angry  girl. 

"I  reckon  I  made  a  mistake  asking  you  to  go  with 
me,"  Sadie  observed,  in  a  calmer  tone  after  a  moment 


SHEAVES  163 

of  silence,  "but — but — Katherine,  I  might  as  well  own 
up — I'm — engaged  to  Ned  Willard." 

"Engaged !  Sadie !  Where  did  you  meet  him  ? 
How  long  have  you  known  him  ?"  exclaimed  Katherine, 
aghast. 

"Oh,  about  three  months.  I  met  him  the  night  Mrs. 
Bryant  gave  that  theater  party." 

"Did  Mrs.  Bryant  introduce  him  to  you?  Was  he 
with  her  party  ?" 

"N-o;  but  Nellie  Nixon  knew  him  and  introduced 
us  on  our  way  out  after  the  play." 

"Does  your  guardian  know  of  your  engagement?" 

"No.  Ned  thought  it  would  be  as  well  not  to  say 
anything  about  it  at  present,"  Sadie  reluctantly  ad- 
mitted, but  cringing  visibly  at  the  question. 

"Dearest,"  said  Katherine,  fondly,  "I  feel  that  I  have 
no  right  to  'meddle,'  as  you  say,  in  your  affairs,  but  I 
do  not  see  how  you  can  respect  or  trust  a  man  who 
would  draw  you  into  a  secret  engagement  and  then 
endanger  your  reputation  and  standing  in  school  by 
insisting  upon  clandestine  meetings.  If  he  possessed 
a  fine  sense  of  honor  he  would  go  to  your  guardian, 
frankly  tell  him  of  his  regard  for  you,  and  ask  his 
permission  to  address  you  openly.  What  is  Mr.  Wil- 
lard's  business,  Sadie?" 

"I — I  don't  know,"  the  girl  confessed,  with  em- 
barrassment. Then  bridling,  added:  "Well,  but  I 
don't  care  shucks  about  that.  I  have  money  enough 
for  both — or  shall  have  next  year,  when  I  am  twenty- 
one." 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  of  the  same  opinion,"  Katherine 


1 64  KATHERINE'S 

said,  to  herself;  but,  thinking  it  might  be  unwise  to 
dwell  upon  that  point,  made  no  reply. 

"You  are  not  going  to  tell  anyone,  honey,"  Sadie 
pleaded,  and  pausing  upon  the  steps  before  entering 
the  building.  "I  think  it  will  be  downright  mean  if  you 
do,"  she  added,  hotly,  as  she  saw  the  troubled  look  on 
her  chum's  face. 

"Sadie,  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  do  anything  for  the 
sake  of  being  'mean' ;  but  I  am  sure  you  are  doing  very 
wrong,  and  will  deeply  regret  it  some  day,"  was  the 
grave  reply. 

"If  you  give  me  away  it  will  get  me  into  an  awful 
scrape." 

"I  know  it ;  and  my  greatest  concern  is  to  save  you 
from  anything  of  the  kind.  Will  you  stop  meeting 
Mr.  Willard  on  the  sly  ?" 

"Oh,  Katherine,  and  not  see  him  at  all !"  exclaimed 
Sadie,  in  a  voice  of  dismay. 

"Dear,  are  you  so  fond  of  him?"  queried  Katherine, 
gently. 

The  girl  flushed  from  neck  to  brow. 

"Indeed — indeed,  I  am,"  she  confessed,  with  down- 
cast eyes. 

"Well,  then,  if  it  has  gone  that  far  he  should  at 
least  allow  you  to  respect  him !"  said  Katherine,  a 
thrill  of  indignation  vibrating  in  her  tones.  "Don't 
go  on  this  way,  Sadie,"  she  pleaded ;  "write  him  that 
you  cannot  meet  him  again  in  any  such  way;  but  tell 
him,  if  he  will  make  himself  known  to  your  guardian, 
and  get  his  permission  to  call  upon  you,  you  will  re- 
ceive him  here." 


SHEAVES  165 

"If  I  will  do  that,  will  you  promise  not  to  say  any- 
thing about  to-night  ?"  demanded  the  girl,  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  Katherine  replied,  after  a  moment  of  thought ; 
at  the  same  time  she  did  not  feel  quite  satisfied  with 
the  state  of  affairs. 

"All  right ;  I  will  write  Ned  to-morrow  and  tell  him," 
Sadie  returned,  with  a  sigh  of  relief  as  they  entered  the 
building  and  passed  on  to  their  room. 

Before  going  to  rest,  Katherine  slipped  away  to  see 
Miss  Reynolds  and  ascertain  if  she  could  do  anything 
for  her  before  retiring. 

She  found  her  reading,  but  Miss  Reynolds  at  once 
laid  down  her  book  and  welcomed  the  girl  with  a  bright 
smile. 

"I  am  all  right,  Kathie,  and  I  have  been  having  a 
perfect  feast,"  she  said,  touching  the  "Science  and 
Health"  in  her  lap. 

They  spent  a  few  minutes  in  social  chat,  then  she 
sent  Katherine  away,  saying  she  must  make  up  the 
sleep  she  had  lost  the  night  before,  and  our  faithful 
little  Scientist  was  glad,  after  her  busy  day,  to  seek  her 
couch,  where  she  was  soon  sleeping  peacefully  and 
knew  no  more  until  she  awoke  the  next  morning  to 
find  the  bright  May  sunshine  flooding  her  room,  and 
told  herself,  with  a  sigh  of  content,  that  it  was  the  Sab- 
bath, and  a  whole  restful  day  of  truth  and  love  before 
her. 

She  was  made  happy,  on  descending  to  breakfast,  to 
find  Miss  Reynolds  in  her  accustomed  seat.  They  ex- 
changed smiling  glances,  and,  later,  the  teacher  said, 
in  a  low  tone : 

"Come  to  my  room  this  afternoon,  Kathie,  if  you 


1 66  KATHERINE'S 

have  nothing  special  to  do ;  I  have  more  questions  for 
you." 

Katherine  said  she  would,  and,  as  soon  as  the  meal 
was  over,  hastened  away  to  prepare  for  church. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  she  decided  to  walk  in- 
stead of  taking  a  car,  as  usual.  She  reached  the  hall 
just  in  season  to  slip  into  a  seat  before  the  opening 
hymn  was  given  out. 

When  she  arose  with  the  congregation  to  sing,  she 
glanced  around  to  see  if  there  was  anyone  near  her 
whom  she  knew.  Her  astonishment  may  be  imagined 
when  her  eye  fell  upon  Jennie  Wild,  just  across  the 
aisle  from  her. 

The  girl  had  also  espied  her  and  nodded  a  smiling 
and  half-defiant  recognition,  which  Katherine  gravely 
returned. 


SHEAVES  167 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  Story  of  a  Stray  Waif. 

For  a  moment  Katherine  felt  as  if  she  were  being 
made  the  target  for  the  arrows  of  error  from  every 
quarter ;  for  here  was  another  lawless  girl  on  her  hands, 
and  another  infraction  of  rules  which  threatened  to 
involve  her  in  disagreeable  complications. 

But,  after  silently  declaring  that  "evil  could  not  make 
her  its  channel,  either  directly  or  indirectly,"  she  reso- 
lutely put  disturbing  thoughts  away,  determined  that 
her  mind  should  not  be  distracted  from  the  lesson. 

She  did  observe,  however,  that  Jennie  paid  the  strict- 
est attention  throughout  the  service,  joining  in  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  and  in  the  hymns  with  a  vigor  which  in- 
dicated thorough  enjoyment  of  that  portion  of  it. 

The  moment  the  benediction  was  pronounced  she 
came  directly  to  her  and  greeted  her  with  a  half- 
deprecatory  air,  but  with  a  roguish  gleam  in  her  saucy 
eyes. 

Katherine  lingered  a  little  to  speak  to  some  ac- 
quaintances, and  also  introduced  her  companion ;  then 
they  passed  out  of  the  hall  together. 

"Did  you  have  Prof.  Seabrook's  permission  to  come 
here  this  morning,  Jennie?"  Katherine  inquired,  when 
they  were  on  the  street,  but  feeling  confident  of  receiv- 
ing a  negative  reply. 


168  KATHERINE'S 

Jennie  took  refuge  in  one  of  her  comical  grimaces 
and  shrugged  her  plump  shoulders. 

"Ask  me  no  questions  and  I  will  tell  you  no- 
stories,"  she  laughingly  rejoined. 

"I  am  answered,"  Katherine  gravely  observed. 

"I  don't  care.  I  wanted  to  come,  and  I  knew  it 
wouldn't  do  to  ask  the  professor,  after  what  he  said  to 
you  about  Christian  Science,"  said  the  girl,  in  self- 
justification,  but  flushing  consciously  beneath  the  look 
of  disapproval  in  her  companion's  eyes.  "I  think  the 
service  was  just  lovely,"  she  went  on,  glibly.  "How 
happy  all  those  people  seemed — as  if  there  wasn't  a 
thing  in  the  world  to  trouble  them.  And  that  'silent 
prayer'! — it  just  made  me  think  of  Elijah  and  the 
'still  small  voice,'  after  the  tempest  and  the  earth- 
quake. I  was  sorry  when  it  was  over." 

"I  am  glad  you  enjoyed  the  services,  Jennie  They 
are  always  very  restful  to  me,  and  Sunday  is  my  day 
to  be  marked  with  a  'white  stone'  for  that  reason," 
and  there  was  a  look  of  peace  in  the  soft,  brown  eyes 
that  assured  Jennie  of  the  truth  of  her  words. 

"Oh,  I  think  Sunday  is  a  bore,  as  a  rule,"  she  ob- 
served, with  another  shrug.  "I'm  always  lonesome  if 
I  don't  go  to  church,  and,  if  I  do,  I  never  know  'where 
I  am  at' — as  the  Irishman  put  it — after  listening  to  a 
long  sermon.  That  was  a  queer  idea,  though,  in  the 
lesson  to-day,  about  there  being  only  one  Mind  in  the 
universe.  Where  do  you  get  your  authority  for  that, 
Miss  Minturn?" 

"There  is  but  one  God,  who  is  Spirit  or  Mind,  and 
He  is  omnipresent,"  Katherine  explained. 


SHEAVES  169 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  us,  then?  I  mean 
your  mind  and  mine?" 

"This  mortal  mind  is  only  a  counterfeit " 

"A  counterfeit  of  what?" 

"Of  the  One  Mind,  or  the  divine  intelligence.  The 
same  as  gas  and  electric  light  are  counterfeits  of  real 
light  from  the  sun,  or  the  one  source  of  light;  but, 
oh,  dear !  I  am  talking  Science,  Jennie,  and  Prof.  Sea- 
brook  said  I  must  not,"  said  Katherine,  cutting  herself 
short. 

"The  idea  of  trying  to  bridle  anyone's  tongue,  in  any 
such  way,  in  this  free  country!"  cried  Jennie,  aggres- 
sively. "But  that  lady  read  from  the  Bible  that  there  is 
'nothing  covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed,  neither  hid 
that  shall  not  be  made  known' ;  then  the  man  read 
something  about  it  being  a  law  of  God  for  truth  to 
uncover  error.  Do  you  believe  that,  Miss  Minturn?" 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  Scientists  really  know  how  to  find  out  any- 
thing that  is  hidden  or — or  secret?"  eagerly  inquired 
the  girl. 

"I  think  I  don't  quite  catch  your  meaning,  Jennie." 

"I'll  tell  you  why  I  asked  you  that,"  she  replied,  an 
intense  look  in  her  dark  eyes,  her  cheeks  flushing 
crimson.  "Perhaps  you  have  heard  something  about 
me — that — that  I  am  a  kind  of  waif?" 

"Yes,  I  have,  dear,"  Katherine  admitted. 

"Well,  it  is  true,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  was 
the  confidential  rejoinder.  "My  aunt — she  taught  me 
to  call  her  so,  though  she  isn't  related  to  me  in  any 
way — was  traveling  from  Kansas  City  to  Chicago, 
about  sixteen  years  ago,  and  there  was  a  terrible  acci- 


170  KATHERINE'S 

dent.  Auntie  was  in  a  rear  car  and  wasn't  hurt  in  the 
least,  but  the  first  and  second  sleepers  were  completely 
wrecked.  A  good  many  people  were  killed,  and  others 
so  badly  injured  they  didn't  live  long.  As  soon  as 
auntie  could  pull  herself  together  she  went  out  to  see 
if  she  could  help  anybody,  and  she  found  me,  a  little 
tot  only  a  year  old,  screaming  in  the  gutter  beside  the 
track.  She  took  me  back  into  her  car  and  looked  me 
over,  to  see  if  I  was  injured;  but,  aside  from  a  few 
bruises  and  scratches,  I  appeared  to  be  all  right,  and, 
after  a  while,  she  quieted  and  soothed  me  to  sleep. 
Then  she  went  out  again  to  try  to  learn  to  whom  I 
belonged ;  but  she  could  not  get  the  slightest  clew, 
and  everyone  said  the  person  or  persons  I  was  with 
must  have  been  among  the  killed.  She  advertised,  and 
the  railroad  officials  made  every  effort  to  find  my 
friends  for  a  long  time ;  but  nothing  ever  came  of  it. 
Auntie  began  to  grow  fond  of  me,  and  said  she  would 
never  let  me  go  until  she  had  to  give  me  up  to  my 
own  folks.  Of  course,  they  have  never  been  found, 
and  so  I  grew  up  with  her." 

"But  wasn't  there  anything  about  you  by  which  you 
could  be  identified  ?"  inquired  Katherine,  who  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  the  pathetic  story. 

"Nothing  but  a  string  of  amber  beads  with  a  queer 
gold  clasp,  and  with  the  initials  'A.  A.  to  M.  A.  J.'  en- 
graved on  the  back  of  it.  Now,  do  you  think  that 
Christian  Science  could  solve  such  a  riddle  as  that?" 
demanded  the  girl,  in  conclusion. 

Katherine  smiled  faintly. 

"There  is  nothing  of  clairvoyance  in  Christian  Sci- 
ence, dear,  and  that  is  a  hard  question  to  explain  to 


SHEAVES  171 

you,"  she  said.  "I  mean  difficult  to  answer  so  that  you 
would  clearly  understand  me.  But  it  is  sufficient  for 
every  human  need,  and  very  wonderful  things  have 
been  demonstrated  through  the  right  comprehension  of 
it.  I  know  of  men  who  govern  their  business  by  it,  and 
who  have  solved  some  very  perplexing  problems.  But 
I  am  talking  again!"  she  exclaimed,  and  breaking  off 
suddenly  once  more. 

"Oh,  if  I  could  only  find  out  who  I  am,  I'd  be  a 
Christian  Scientist,  or — anything  else!"  cried  Jennie, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  but  gritting  her  teeth  to  keep 
the  drops  from  falling.  "It  is  dreadful  to  feel  yourself 
to  be  such  an  enigma !  Think  of  it !  to  have  your 
identity  lost.  I  get  awfully  worked  up  over  it  some- 
times. Auntie  is  a  dear,  and  I  love  her  with  all  my 
heart,  for  she  has  been  an  angel  of  goodness  to  me. 
She  isn't  very  well  off,  but  she  wanted  me  to  have  a 
first-class  education  and  be  with  nice  girls;  so,  after 
talking  with  Prof.  Seabrook,  she  said  if  I  would  be 
willing  to  work  for  a  part  of  the  expense  she  would 
try  to  make  up  the  rest." 

"How  perfectly  lovely  of  Miss  Wild!"  said  Kath- 
erine,  earnestly.  "And  you,  too,  Jennie,  deserve  great 
credit  for  your  own  efforts  to  get  a  good  education. 
But " 

"But  what?" 

"I  wonder  if  I  may  say  it?"  mused  Katherine,  doubt- 
fully. 

Jennie  slipped  her  hand  within  Katherine's  arm  and 
gave  it  a  fond  little  hug. 

"Miss  Minturn,  I've  loved  you  ever  since  the  day 
you  came  to  Hilton.  You  are  a  dear — you  have  been 


1 72  KATHERINE'S 

just  as  kind  as  you  could  be  to  me,  and  you  may  say 
anything  you  like,"  she  impulsively  returned. 

"Thank  you ;  that  is  giving-  me  a  good  deal  of  li- 
cense," was  the  laughing  response ;  "but  what  I  wanted 
to  say  was — make  the  getting  of  your  education,  in- 
stead of  fun,  your  chief  object,  and  don't  spoil  your 
record  by  breaking  rules." 

"As  I  have  to-day,  for  instance?"  supplemented  Jen- 
nie, flushing. 

"Yes,  to-day,  and — on  some  other  occasions  that  I 
could  mention." 

The  girl  gave  vent  to  a  hearty,  rollicking  laugh. 

"You  manage  to  see  considerable  with  those  innocent 
eyes  of  yours,"  she  said,  after  a  moment.  "But  I  don't 
get  very  much  fun  after  all.  With  all  my  work  and  my 
studies  there  is  precious  little  time  left  me  for  recrea- 
tion, and,  sometimes,  I  get  so  full  I  just  have  to  kick 
over  the  traces.  But — surely  you  don't  think  I  could 
get  any  harm  from  your  service  to-day,"  she  con- 
cluded, demurely. 

"That  is  not  the  point,  Miss  Mischief,  and  you 
know  it.  Of  course,  there  was  nothing  but  good  in 
the  service  for  you,  or  anyone.  But  you  didn't  find 
anything  in  it — did  you? — to  countenance  disobedi- 
ence?" 

"No,"  said  Jennie,  seriously ;  "and  I  suppose,  too, 
that  if  any  of  the  teachers  or  girls  had  seen  me  come 
away  from  the  hall  with  you  it  might  have  given  the 
impression  that  you  had  countenanced  my  going.  But, 
Miss  Minturn,  I  have  wanted  to  get  at  the  secret  of — 
of  your  dearness,  ever  since  you  came  here.  But  I 


SHEAVES  173 

promise  you,  though,  I  will  not  put  you  in  jeopardy 
again  by  running  away  to  your  church." 

Katherine  nodded  her  approval  at  this  assurance, 
then  changed  the  subject,  and  they  chatted  pleasantly 
until  they  reached  the  seminary. 

After  dinner  Katherine  repaired,  as  she  had  been  re- 
quested, to  Miss  Reynolds'  room.  She  found  her 
teacher  sitting  at  her  desk,  her  Bible  and  "Science  and 
Health"  open  before  her. 

"You  see,  I  cannot  let  the  great  subject  alone,"  she 
said,  welcoming  the  girl  with  a  smile  and  glancing  at 
her  books.  "Now  that  I  have  begun  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  truth,  it  is  like  a  fountain  of  pure,  cold  water 
to  a  man  perishing  from  thirst — I  cannot  get  enough 
of  it;  I  just  want  to  immerse  myself  in  it.  And,  see 
here,"  she  added,  touching  a  letter  lying  beside  the 
books,  "I  have  written  to  the  publishing  house  in 
Boston  for  several  of  Mrs.  Eddy's  works.  I  want 
them  for  my  very  own." 

"You  are  surely  making  progress,"  Katherine  re- 
turned, with  shining  eyes. 

She  was  very  happy,  for  this  eager,  radiant  woman 
seemed  an  entirely  different  being  from  the  helpless 
sufferer  to  whom  she  had  been  called  less  than  forty- 
eight  hours  previous. 

"Sit  down,  Kathie,"  said  her  teacher,  indicating  a 
chair  near  her.  "I  hope  I  am  making  progress,"  she 
added,  growing  suddenly  grave.  "I  find  there  is  need 
enough  of  it,  and  I  have  been  both  on  the  mount  and 
into  the  valley  to-day." 

"That  is  the  experience  of  everyone,"  was  the  smil- 
ing reply,  "but  it  all  means  progress  just  the  same." 


174  KATHERINE'S 

"I  see  that  everyone  who  begins  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  truth,  in  Christian  Science,  must  also  begin  to 
live  it  at  once,  if  he  is  honest." 

"Yes,  we  have  to  live  it  in  order  to  prove  it." 

"And  the  first  thing  to  do  is,  as  Jesus  commanded, 
to  have  one  God  and  to  love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves. 
That  word  'love'  has  taken  on  a  new  meaning  for  me 
to-day,  Kathie.  It  means  an  impersonal  love,  which, 
like  the  'rain' — in  Jesus'  simile — 'falls  alike  upon  the 
just  and  the  unjust.' ': 

Katherine  lifted  questioning  eyes  to  the  speaker,  for 
her  voice  was  now  accusingly  serious. 

"And  one  cannot  demonstrate  the  Love  that  is  God," 
she  went  on,  "unless  he  loves  in  that  way — without  re- 
gard to  personality." 

"That  is  true — how  quickly  you  grasp  these  things!" 
said  her  companion. 

"Ah!  but  I  have  grasped  something,  with  this,  that 
is  not  at  all  agreeable,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  peculiar 
glitter  in  her  eyes  which  the  girl  had  never  seen  there 
before. 

"How  so?  Pardon  me,  though,  I  should  not  have 
asked  that,"  corrected  Katherine,  flushing. 

"But  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  the  same,"  said  Miss 
Reynolds.  "Ten  years  ago  my  father  died.  He  was 
supposed  to  be  a  rich  man,  but  when  his  affairs  were 
settled  my  mother  and  I  were  left  with  almost  nothing. 
His  partner  represented  that  the  firm  was  heavily  in- 
volved, but  said  if  we  would  sign  our  interest  in  the 
business  over  to  him,  for  a  certain  amount,  he  would 
perhaps  manage  to  pull  through  and  save  us  the  ex- 
pense of  having  things  adjusted  by  law.  We  were  not 


SHEAVES 


17S 


at  all  satisfied  with  the  state  of  affairs,  but  we  were 
helpless,  as  we  had  no  money  to  spend  in  litigation,  and 
we  were  forced  to  accept  his  terms.  He  made  over  to 
us  a  small  house  on  the  outskirts  of  our  town,  together 
with  a  mere  pittance,  which  barely  served  to  support 
us  until  I  secured  a  position  as  teacher.  I  have  taken 
care  of  my  mother  and  myself  ever  since.  But  that 
man  and  his  family  have  never  abated  their  style  of 
living  one  whit,  and  are  to-day  rolling  in  luxury. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  we  were  robbed  of  a 
fortune,  and  yet  there  was  no  possible  way  of  prov- 
ing it.  I  have  never  been  able  to  meet  or  even  think 
of  that  man  since,  without  smarting  as  under  a  lash, 
and  with  a  feeling  of  resentment  and  a  sense  of  per- 
sonal injury  that  never  fail  to  give  me  a  sick  head- 
ache, if  I  allow  my  thoughts  to  dwell  upon  him.  That 
isn't  love,  Kathie." 

"No,"  gravely;  but  the  voice  was  also  very  tender. 

"Everything  is  either  'for'  or  'against'  in  Christian 
Science  ?" 

"Yes." 

"There  is,  I  see,  no  middle  ground ;  so,  if  one  cannot 
think  compassionately,  even  tenderly,  of  one's  enemy 
one  is  guilty  of — hate?"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  with 
quivering  lips  and  averted  eyes. 

Again  Katherine  was  silent ;  but  her  glance  was  very 
loving  as  it  rested  on  her  teacher's  troubled  face. 

"Tell  me  how  to  get  rid  of  these  feelings.  Kathie," 
she  resumed,  after  a  moment,  "for  they  make  me 
wretched  at  times.  I  find  myself  mentally  going  over 
the  same  ground,  again  and  again,  holding  imaginary 
conversations  with  the  man  who  has  wronged  me,  argu- 


176  KATHERINE'S 

ing  the  case  and  bringing  up  evidence,  as  if  it  were 
being  tried  before  a  judge  and  jury.  How  would  you 
conquer  it  in  Science?" 

"Every  wrong  thought  we  hold  has  to  be  re- 
versed  " 

"Oh !  do  you  mean  I  must  declare  that  that  man  is 
not  dishonest — that  he  has  not  wronged  me?  That  I 
have  not  been  injured  and  do  not  resent  that  injury?" 
interposed  the  woman,  looking  up  with  flashing  eyes,  a 
scarlet  spot  burning  on  either  cheek.  "Child,  you  don't 
know  what  I  have  suffered.  My  father  took  that  man 
into  his  business  and  gave  him  a  start  when  he  had 
not  a  dollar  in  the  world,  and  it  was  such  base  ingrati- 
tude to  rob  his  family  and  let  them  sink  into  poverty. 
Ah !  the  bitter  tears  I  have  shed  over  it !" 

Then  she  suddenly  relaxed  and  sank  back  in  her 
chair  with  a  deprecatory  smile. 

"Kathie,  you  did  not  suspect  your  teacher  of  having 
such  a  seething  volcano  concealed  in  her  breast,  did 
you?"  she  observed,  sadly. 

"What  you  have  told  me  makes  me  think  of  a  verse 
of  'The  Mother's  Evening  Prayer,'  in  'Miscellaneous 
Writings/  "*  said  Katherine,  gently ;  and  she  repeated 
in  a  low  tone : 

"Oh!  make  me  glad  for  every  scalding  tear, 

For  hope  deferred,  ingratitude,  disdain! 
Wait,  and  love  more  for  every  hate,  and  fear 
No  ill,  since  God  is  good,  and  loss  is  gain." 

"Say  that  again  please,  dear,"  pleaded  Miss  Rey- 
nolds, with  a  sudden  catch  in  her  breath ;  and  Kath- 
erine went  through  it  the  second  time. 

"Ah !  that  shows  how  she  has  risen  to  the  heights 


*By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy,  page  389. 


SHEAVES  177 

she  has  attained,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  in  a  reverent 
tone.  "We  are  to  be  'glad'  for  whatever  drives  us 
closer  to  God,  to  'wait'  and  'love'  through  all." 

"And  to  know  that  every  man  is  our  brother — the 
perfect  image  and  likeness  of  God,  and  we  must  not 
bind  heavy  burdens  of  sin  and  dishonesty  upon  him  in 
resentful  thought." 

"Yes,  I  see;  we  have  to  'blot  it  all  out,'  "  said  Miss 
Reynolds,  wearily.  "I  caught  something  of  that  in  my 
study  to-day  and  that  was  what  sent  me  down  into  the 
valley,  for  it  seemed  such  an  impossible  thing  to  do. 
You  could  see  what  a  strong  grip  it  had  on  me  in  re- 
hearsing it  to  you." 

"All  wrong  thought  brings  the  sting — the  smart  of 
the  lash ;  but  love — right  thinking — brings  the  'peace  of 
God,'  "  said  Katherine. 

"Ah !  it  is  a  case  of  'as  ye  sow  ye  shall  also  reap,'  " 
said  Miss  Reynolds,  drawing  a  long  breath.  "But, 
Kathie,  do  you  think  it  will  be  possible  for  me  to  so 
reverse  my  thought  about  that  man  that  I  can  grow  to 
love  him?" 

"You  do  love  him  now ;  only  error  is  trying  to  make 
you  think  that  a  dear  brother  is  not  worthy  of  your 
love,"  said  the  girl,  softly. 

"Oh,  Katherine !  we  have  to  come  under  the  rod, 
don't  we?"  and  her  voice  almost  broke. 

"There  is  also  the  staff,"  was  the  low-voiced  reply. 
"Truth,  the  rod,  uncovers  and  smites  the  error ;  then 
Love,  the  staff,  supports  our  faltering  steps — 'meets 
everv  human  need.'  "* 


""'Science  and  Health,"  page  494. 


178  KATHERINE'S 

Silence  fell  between  them,  during  which  both  were 
deeply  absorbed  in  thought,  while  the  fire  gradually 
faded  from  the  elder  woman's  eyes  and  the  scarlet  from 
her  cheeks. 

At  length  she  turned  with  an  earnest  look  to  her 
companion. 

"Kathie,"  she  said,  in  a  clear,  resolute  tone,  "I  have 
put  my  'hand  to  the  plow/  and  I  am  not  going  to  'look 
back.'  " 

"Then  everything  will  come  right,"  said  the  girl, 
with  a  brilliant  smile,  as  she  bent  forward  and  kissed 
her  on  the  lips. 


SHEAVES  179 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  Sophomore  Racket. 

Monday  evening,  after  study  hours  were  over,  again 
found  Katherine  in  her  teacher's  room,  for  now  that 
the  woman  had  begun  to  get  an  understanding  of  the 
spiritual  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures  her  desire  to 
know  more  was  insatiable ;  while  our  young  Scientist 
was  only  too  glad  to  lend  her  what  help  she  could 
along  the  way. 

They  went  over  the  Sunday  lesson  together,  and  af- 
terward fell  to  talking  upon  certain  points  that  had 
especially  attracted  their  attention,  becoming  so  ab- 
sorbed that  they  took  no  account  of  time  until  the  clock 
struck  the  half  hour  after  eleven. 

"Why!"  Katherine  exclaimed,  and  starting  to  her 
feet,  "if  you  were  not  a  teacher  I  should  be  guilty  of 
flagrant  disobedience  in  being  out  of  my  room  at  this 
hour." 

"Dear  child,  I  have  been  very  thoughtless  to  keep 
you  so  long,"  said  Miss  Reynolds,  regretfully,  "but  I 
certainly  had  no  idea  of  time.  And  what  is  time,  any- 
way ?  I  begin  to  realize  that  it  is  only  a  mortal  inven- 
tion, and  that  we  are  living  in  eternity  now.  But  I 
must  not  begin  on  this  infinite  subject  again  to-night ; 
go!  go!"  She  laughingly  waved  the  girl  away,  and 


i8o  KATHERINE'S 

she  slipped  noiselessly  out  into  the  hall  to  seek  her 
own  room. 

Miss  Reynolds  was  located  on  the  second  floor  of  the 
east  wing,  and  Katherine  roomed  in  the  west  wing, 
consequently  she  was  obliged  to  go  down  a  flight  of 
stairs,  cross  the  main  or  central  hall,  and  up  another 
flight  to  gain  her  own  quarters. 

The  lights  were  all  out,  but  the  moon  was  full,  com- 
ing in  through  the  windows  with  a  soft  radiance,  and 
thus  she  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  her  way. 

She  had  crossed  the  main  hall,  and  just  entered  a 
short  passage  leading  to  the  west  wing,  when  she  came 
suddenly  upon  some  one,  who  appeared  to  be  trying  to 
shrink  out  of  sight  into  a  corner. 

"Why,  who  is  it?"  she  cried,  in  a  repressed  but 
startled  tone. 

"Sh !  sh !  keep  mum !"  was  the  warning  response 
as  the  figure  drew  near  her. 

"Jennie !"  Katherine  whispered,  amazed,  "what  are 
you  doing  here  at  this  unearthly  hour  of  the  night  ?" 

"Hush !  don't  give  me  away  for  the  world,"  said  the 
girl,  laying  a  nervous  hand  upon  her  arm.  "There's 
something  going  on  in  yonder — it's  the  fun  I  told  you 
about  a  while  ago.  I'm  not  in  the  plot,  but  I'm  bound 
to  be  in  at  the  finish,  for  it's  going  to  be  a  hot  time, 
I  can  tell  you." 

"Really,  dear,  you  are  better  out  of  it  altogether," 
Katherine  gravely  returned.  "You  know  what  we  were 
talking  of  yesterday,  about  breaking  rules  and  spoil- 
ing one's  record." 

"Aren't  you  breaking  rules,  too?"  retorted  Jennie, 
aggressively. 


SHEAVES  181 

"No ;  I  have  just  come  from  Miss  Reynolds'  room." 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  see  this  through,  now  I've 
started  in.  I've  had  to  pinch  and  pound  myself  for  the 
last  two  hours,  though,  to  keep  awake,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  miss  the  'racket'  after  all  that  bother,"  de- 
clared the  girl,  clinging  tenaciously  to  her  purpose. 

"Hark !"  she  added,  a  moment  later,  in  a  startled 
whisper,  as  a  titter  of  irrepressible  mirth  was  borne 
to  their  ears  from  somewhere  beyond  thenf.^^ 

It  seemed  to  proceed  from  the  landing  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs  which  led  to  the  second  story,  but  was 
quickly  suppressed  and  all  was  still  again. 

"Well,"  said  Katherine,  after  listening  a  moment,  "I 
must  go  on  to  my  room,  and  my  advice  to  you,  Jennie, 
is  to  return  at  once  to  yours.  Good-night,"  and, 
leaving  the  willful  "racket"-lover  to  her  fate,  she  stole 
softly  away. 

She  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  to  listen  again, 
when  the  swish  of  garments  fell  on  her  ear,  then  a 
voice,  which  she  immediately  recognized,  whispered : 

"Be  sure  you  tie  your  end  tight,  Carrie." 

Katherine  moved  lightly  up  a  step  or  two  and  heard 
the  answer : 

"I  have;  now,  Rose,  scud  up  to  the  next  floor  and 
give  the  signal,  while  I  go  for  my  cymbals,"  and  a 
smothered  laugh  followed. 

Again  there  was  a  rustle  of  garments  and  the  soft 
slipping  of  unshod  feet  over  the  upper  flight  of  stairs, 
while  Katherine  as  noiselessly  sped  over  the  lower  one. 

On  reaching  the  landing  she  looked  about  her  to 
ascertain,  if  possible,  what  mischief  was  brewing. 

The  hall  was  very  dimly  lighted  by  a  window  at  each 


1 82  KATHERINE'S 

end,  and,  as  the  moon  had  not  yet  got  around  to  that 
quarter,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  discern  anything; 
but,  lower  down  the  hall,  she  thought  she  could  detect 
two  lines,  stretched  across  from  opposite  doors,  about 
three  feet  from  the  floor. 

Not  wishing  to  get  involved  in  the  prospective  mis- 
chief, and  as  her  room  was  just  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  she  softly  turned  the  handle  of  the  door  and 
slipped  inside. 

Scarcely  a  minute  elapsed  after  she  had  closed  and 
locked  it,  when  there  came  a  deafening  crash  and  bang, 
mingled  with  the  blowing  of  whistles,  horns  and  combs, 
that  seemed  sufficient  to  awaken  the  "Seven  Sleepers" 
in  their  cavern  of  refuge. 

"Oh,  heavens!  Whatever  is  the  matter?"  screamed 
Sadie,  starting  up  in  affright.  "Are  you  there,  Kath- 
erine  ?" 

"Yes." 

"What  was  that  noise  ?    Did  you  hear  it  ?" 

"Indeed  I  did." 

They  listened  for  a  moment  or  two,  but  there  was 
no  sound. 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  some  commotion  had  arisen 
somewhere,  and  a  medley  of  muffled  voices  was  borne 
to  their  ears. 

Presently  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  whereupon 
Sadie  sprang  out  of  bed,  slipped  on  a  wrapper,  and, 
opening  her  door  a  crack,  saw  the  watchman  with  his 
lantern  just  mounting  into  view. 

Then  the  voice  of  one  of  the  teachers — Miss  Clark — 
rang  out  excitedly,  while  she  vainly  tugged  at  her  door 


SHEAVES  183 

which  had  been  connected  with  the  one  opposite  by 
a  piece  of  clothesline : 

"Young  ladies,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  outrage  ? 
Release  me  immediately." 

"Ye'll  just  hev  to  wait  a  minute,  marm,"  said  the 
watchman,  with  an  audible  chuckle  of  amusement  as 
he  comprehended  the  situation,  while  he  put  down  his 
lantern  and  plunged  his  hand  into  various  pockets  in 
search  of  his  knife. 

Looking  farther  down  the  hall,  Sadie  saw  that  Miss 
Williams  had  been  imprisoned  in  the  same  manner, 
while  a  promiscuous  assortment  of  tin  pans,  covers  and 
plates  lay  in  a  heap  upon  the  floor,  and  telling  their 
own  story  regarding  the  recent  crash. 

There  was  not  a  person,  save  the  watchman,  in  sight. 

But,  presently,  doors  were  cautiously  opened  and 
tousled  heads  appeared  in  the  apertures,  while  timid 
voices  made  inquiries  as  to  what  had  happened. 

The  watchman — who  had  been  making  his  rounds, 
as  was  his  custom  at  midnight,  hence  his  timely  appear- 
ance upon  the  scene — soon  had  the  indignant  teachers 
released,  and  then  went  on  to  the  next  floor,  where 
similar  conditions  prevailed. 

On  being  given  their  liberty,  Miss  Clark  and  Miss 
Williams  immediately  bestirred  themselves  to  ferret 
out  the  culprits;  but,  of  course,  everybody  was  inno- 
cent and  as  eager  as  themselves  to  ascertain  "who 
could  have  been  guilty  of  so  daring  an  escapade  at  that 
hour  of  the  night." 

Poor  Jennie,  however,  was  destined  to  pay  the  pen- 
alty of  her  temerity. 

A  moment  or  two  after  Katherine  left  her,  she  had 


1 84  KATHERINE'S 

also  stolen  cautiously  up  the  stairs,  but  on  moving 

farther  down  the  hall  had  run  against  one  of  the  ropes. 

^^SK    Like  a  flash   she  comprehended   something  of  the 

1  nature  of  the  joke,  and,  hearing  steps  and  smothered 

laughter  above,  turned  back  and  slipped  into  a  closet 

at  the  end  of  the  hall,  where  she  shrank  into  a  corner 

and  waited  with  eager  ears  and  bated  breath  for  the 

denouement. 

When  it  came,  however,  she  heartily  wished  she 
was  anywhere  else  in  the  world ;  but  there  was  nothing 
for  her  to  do  except  to  wait  quietly  in  her  place  of  con- 
cealment until  the  breeze  blew  over,  when  she  hoped 
she  could  steal  away,  unobserved,  to  her  room.  If  the 
watchman  had  not  appeared  upon  the  scene  so  oppor- 
tunely, she  would  have  made  a  break  immediately  after 
the  crash ;  but,  hearing  his  steps,  she  knew  that  her 
escape  was  cut  off  in  that  direction.  She  could  not 
even  mingle  with  the  other  girls,  when  they  began  to 
gather  in  the  halls  to  "help  investigate,"  and  so  find 
protection  in  numbers;  for  she  belonged  in  the  other 
wing,  and  her  presence  in  the  west  wing  would  at 
once  warrant  the  worst  possible  construction  being 
put  upon  her  appearance  there. 

So  she  shrank  closer  into  her  corner  and  stood  mo- 
tionless, hoping  no  one  would  think  of  looking  there. 

Vain  hope,  however,  for  Miss  Williams,  having 
closely  questioned  various  ones  without  gaining  any 
satisfaction,  walked  straight  to  the  closet  and  opened 
the  door,  when  the  light  from  her  candle  flared  directly 
upon  Jennie's  white,  frightened  face  and  shrinking 
figure. 

"Ah !  Miss  Wild !  so  you  are  implicated  in  this  dis- 


"The  light  from  her  candle  flared  directly  upon  Jennie's  white,  fright- 
ened face  and  shrinking  figure."  (See  page  184) 


SHEAVES  185 

graceful  escapade!"  the  teacher  sternly  exclaimed,  as 
she  laid  a  forcible  hand  upon  her  arm  and  drew  her 
from  her  hiding  place.  "What  was  your  object  and 
who  were  your  accomplices?  for,  of  course,  you  could 
not  have  carried  it  out  alone,"  she  concluded,  sharply. 

Miss  Clark  now  joined  them,  while  many  of  the 
students  gathered  around  and  regarded  Jennie  with 
blank  and  wondering  faces. 

"I — I  don't  know — there  wasn't — er — anybody," 
stammered  Jennie,  too  confused  and  overcome  with 
fright  to  speak  connectedly. 

"Don't  tell  me  that !  It  is  impossible  that  you  could 
conceive  such  a  plot  and  execute  it  without  help,  and 
I  am  going  to  sift  it  to  the  bottom,"  was  Miss  Wil- 
liams' sharp  retort ;  for  she  by  no  means  relished  being 
aroused  at  midnight  by  such  a  frightful  bedlam,  to  find 
herself  a  prisoner  in  her  room. 

"Truly,  Miss  Williams,  I  wasn't  in  it  at  all,"  Jennie 
affirmed,  with  more  coherence,  and  lifting  an  appealing 
look  to  the  incensed  woman. 

"Miss  Wrild,  don't  add  falsehood  to  your  other  of- 
fenses. What  were  you  hiding  here  for,  if  you  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it?  But" — suddenly  cutting  herself 
short — "I  think  we  will  defer  further  investigation 
until  to-morrow.  Go  to  your  room  at  once,  and  remain 
there  until  I  come  to  you  in  the  morning.  Young  ladies, 
retire — all  of  you — and  those  who,  in  any  way,  have 
participated  in  this  affair,  prepare  to  make  open  con- 
fession, for  I  assure  you  it  will  not  be  dropped  until 
you  do." 

She  waved  them  imperatively  away,  and  they  imme- 
diately vanished  with  cheerful  alacrity  from  her  austere 


1 86  KATHERINE'S 

presence,   while  Jennie   also   sped  away   without   one 
backward  glance. 

Miss  Williams  then  turned  to  the  watchman  and 
observed  more  calmly : 

"Mr.  Johnson,  it  seems  we  were  all  more  frightened 
than  hurt.  My  first  impression  was  that  there  had  been 
a  terrific  explosion,  and  the  sensation  of  being  fastened 
in  one's  room  at  such  a  time  isn't  at  all  agreeable.  I 
am  glad  you  were  at  hand  to  help  and  reassure  us." 

"Ye  were  in  rather  a  ticklish  box,  mum ;  fur,  by  the 
powers !  'twur  like  a  pan-dom-i-num  let  loose,"  replied 
the  man,  stooping  to  recover  his  lantern  and  to  conceal 
a  broad  grin  of  appreciation,  for  it  was  well  known  he 
enjoyed  a  joke  as  well  as  anyone,  even  to  the  point  of 
sometimes  abetting  the  perpetrators.  "But  what'll  we 
do  wid  all  the  truck  ?"  he  added,  glancing  at  the  pile 
of  tinware  on  the  floor. 

"Oh,  leave  it  where  it  is  until  morning,  and  the 
maids  will  take  care  of  it,"  Miss  Clark  suggested ;  and 
then  the  teachers  also  repaired  to  their  rooms,  the 
watchman  went  his  way,  his  broad  shoulders  shaking 
with  silent  laughter,  and  quiet  settled  down  once  more 
upon  Hilton's  ruffled  west  wing. 

Katherine  had  remained  in  the  background  through- 
out the  entire  disturbance,  quietly  disrobing  and  getting 
ready  for  bed. 

Sadie  had  been  so  frightened  by  the  startling  noises 
outside,  she  did  not  observe — the  room  being  dark — 
or  dream  that  her  roommate  was  still  up  and  dressed. 
She  supposed  that  she  had  come  in  while  she  was  sleep- 
ing and  retired  without  waking  her;  thus  Katherine 


SHEAVES  187 

escaped  being  questioned  or  obliged  to  make  any  ex- 
planations. 

But  she  lay  awake  some  time  after  the  house 
had  settled  into  stillness,  trying  to  decide  what  steps 
she  ought  to  take,  knowing  what  she  did  about  the 
matter. 

She  knew  it  would  not  be  right  to  allow  Jennie  to 
suffer  for  what  she  was  in  no  way  responsible,  even 
though  she  had  broken  rules  in  being  out  of  her  room 
at  so  late  an  hour.  But  what  her  duty  was  regarding 
reporting  the  leaders  in  the  "racket,"  if  they  obstinately 
refrained  from  confessing  their  offense,  she  could  not 
readily  determine.  She  finally  resolved  that  she  would 
do  her  utmost  to  exonerate  Jennie  without  incrimina- 
ting anyone  else,  if  possible. 

She  arose  with  the  first  stroke  of  the  rising  bell,  per- 
formed her  usual  duties  with  what  dispatch  she  could, 
and  then  sought  Miss  Williams  shortly  before  the 
breakfast  hour. 

The  teacher  greeted  her  cordially,  and  inquired  with 
a  significant  smile: 

"Were  you  frightened  nearly  out  of  your  senses,  with 
the  rest  of  us  last  night,  Miss  Minturn?" 

"Oh,  no;  but  perhaps  I  might  have  been  if  I  had 
been  asleep.  I  know  something  about  the  affair,  Miss 
Williams,  and  I  have  come  to  talk  it  over  with  you," 
Katherine  explained. 

"Ah !"  and  the  woman  looked  both  astonished  and 
interested. 

"Jennie  Wild  told  you  the  truth  last  night,"  she  went 
on.  "She  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  'racket,' 


1 88  KATHERINE'S 

even  though  appearances  point  strongly  the  other 
way." 

She  then  proceeded  to  tell  all  that  she  knew  about 
the  matter,  but ,  without  revealing  the  names  of  the 
ringleaders. 

"Well,  this  certainly  does  put  an  entirely  different 
aspect  upon  the  affair,"  Miss  Williams  observed,  when 
she  concluded.  "I  am  more  than  glad,  too,  because  my 
sympathies  are  with  Miss  Wild,  in  spite  of  her  ten- 
dency to  bubble  over  now  and  then.  Circumstantial 
evidence  is  not  always  true  evidence,  is  it  ?"  she  added, 
with  a  smile.  ''I  was  highly  indignant  with  her  last 
night,  for  I  felt  sure  she  was  prominent  in  it — and 
she  certainly  was  guilty  of  disobedience." 

"Yes ;  her  curiosity  surely  got  the  better  of  her  judg- 
ment," Katherine  assented. 

"Well,  could  you  identify  those  girls,  whom  you 
overheard  in  the  hall?"  Miss  Williams  now  inquired. 

Katherine  flushed.  She  had  been  dreading  this 
question. 

"I  did  not  see  anyone,"  she  returned  with  a  faint 
smile,  after  a  moment  of  hesitation. 

"I  see,  my  dear;  you  do  not  wish  to  'tell  tales,'  and 
I  appreciate  your  position,"  said  her  companion,  with 
a  wise  nod  that  had  nothing  of  disapproval  in  it. 
"Well" — after  considering  a  moment — "we  will  say  no 
more  about  it  until  Prof.  Seabrook  has  been  consulted. 
Jennie,  however,  will  have  reason  to  be  grateful  to  you 
for  helping  her  out  of  what,  otherwise,  might  have 
proved  a  very  awkward  situation." 

Miss  Williams  went  at  once  to  the  girl  and  released 
her  from  the  confinement  she  had  imposed  upon  her 


SHEAVES  189 

the  previous  night.  She  explained  how  Miss  Minturn 
had  come  to  her  rescue,  and  Jennie,  who  had  for  once 
been  thoroughly  frightened,  vowed  she  would  "never 
be  caught  in  a  scrape  of  any  kind"  during  the  re- 
mainder of  her  course. 

Considerable  excitement  prevailed  during  the  day, 
and  the  "midnight  escapade"  was  the  one  topic  of  con- 
versation whenever  a  group  of  girls  came  together; 
but  it  was  not  until  study  hours  were  over  in  the  after- 
noon that  any  active  measures  to  "investigate"  the 
matter  were  instituted.  Then  Katherine  was  summoned 
to  the  principal's  study,  where  she  found  the  four 
teachers  who  had  the  west  wing  in  charge,  and  Jennie, 
assembled. 

Jennie  was  rigorously  catechised,  but  had  very  little 
to  tell.  She  had  overheard  something  of  a  plot  that 
promised  considerable  excitement  and  fun ;  she  had 
also  heard  some  one  whisper,  "Monday,  at  midnight," 
and  her  curiosity  had  been  raised  to  the  highest  pitch, 
therefore  she  had  been  unable  to  resist  being  "in  at  the 
finish."  She  could  not  tell  who  were  the  leaders,  for 
she  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  anyone,  having  slipped 
into  the  closet  before  the  crash  came.  Being  hard 
pressed,  however,  she  admitted  that  she  thought  the 
sophomores  were  chiefly  concerned  in  the  "racket." 

Katherine  was  then  requested  to  relate  all  that  she 
knew  about  it,  whereupon  she  repeated  what  she  had 
already  told  Miss  Williams. 

"You  have  corroborated  what  Miss  Wild  has  stated, 
and  have  also  exonerated  her  from  any  complicity  in 
the  affair,"  Prof.  Seabrook  observed,  when  she  con- 
cluded. "I  judge  that  it  must  have  been  confined  en- 


1 90  KATHERINE'S 

tirely  to  the  sophomore  class.  Now  we  must  get  down 
to  individuals,  if  possible.  Miss  Minturn,  did  you 
recognize  the  voices  of  those  two  girls  whom  you  over- 
heard in  the  hall  last  night?" 

"Truth  compels  me  to  say  that  I  did,"  Katherine  re- 
plied, a  hot  flush  mounting  to  her  brow. 

"Their  names,  if  you  please,"  commanded  the  prin- 
cipal, briefly. 

"I  beg  that  you  will  excuse  me  from  naming  them," 
she  pleaded. 

"It  is  plainly  your  duty  to  expose  them,  Miss  Min- 
turn. The  affair  is  of  too  serious  a  nature  to  allow 
sentiment  to  thwart  discipline  and  the  preservation  of 
law  and  order,"  returned  the  gentleman,  in  an  inflex- 
ible tone. 

"Pardon  me,"  she  said,  "but  I  cannot  feel  it  my  duty 
—at  least  until " 

"That  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  you  will  not  com- 
ply with  my  request,"  interposed  the  professor,  his  eyes 
beginning  to  blaze  in  view  of  what  he  regarded  as  a 
defiant  attitude. 

"No,  sir ;  I  could  not  be  so  disrespectful,"  Katherine 
gently  replied.  "Please  allow  me  to  say  that  I  would 
have  taken  no  action  whatever  in  the  matter  but  for 
the  sake  of  saving  Miss  Wild  from  being  unjustly  ac- 
cused." 

Jennie  flashed  her  an  adoring  look  as  she  said  this. 

"I  just  wanted  to  hug  you !"  she  told  her  afterwards. 

"Miss  Wild  is  no  doubt  properly  grateful ;  all  the 
same  you  have  no  right  to  shield  the  guilty  ones,  and 
I  shall  hold  you  to  your  duty,"  inflexibly  responded 
Prof.  Seabrook. 


SHEAVES  191 

Katherine  saw  that  he  was  determined  to  make  her 
name  the  culprits,  and,  for  a  moment,  she  was  deeply 
distressed.  Then  her  face  suddenly  cleared. 

"May  I  suggest  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  offenders 
to  confess  their  own  wrongdoing?"  she  questioned,  in 
a  respectful  tone;  adding:  "It  certainly  is  their  right 
to  have  the  opportunity  given  them,  and  I  would 
prefer  not  to  rob  them  of  it;  while  it  would  release 
me  from  a  very  awkward  position  if  they  would  do  so." 

"I  think  Miss  Minturn  is  right,  Prof.  Seabrook," 
Miss  Williams  here  remarked.  "I  am  sure  we  can  all 
understand  how  she  feels  about  it,  and  we  know  that  it 
would  place  her  under  the  ban  of  the  whole  school  if 
she  were  to  expose  the  ringleaders  without  giving  them 
the  opportunity,  as  she  says,  to  volunteer  a  confession." 

Katherine  shot  a  look  of  gratitude  at  the  speaker, 
who  nodded  her  sympathy  in  return. 

An  uncomfortable  silence  followed,  during  which  the 
much-tried  girl  felt  that  her  principal  regarded  her  as 
obstinate  as  well  as  sentimental,  and  was  more  than 
half  inclined  not  to  yield  his  point,  in  spite  of  Miss 
Williams'  espousal  of  her  cause. 

"Very  well ;  let  it  rest  here  for  the  present,"  he  at 
length  curtly  observed.  "You  are  temporarily  ex- 
cused, Miss  Minturn.  But  if  the  offenders  do  not 
promptly  come  forward,  I  shall  expect  you  to  tell  all 
you  know,  later." 

Katherine  bowed  and  slipped  quietly  from  the  room, 
but  with  a  choking  sensation  in  her  throat,  a  feeling 
of  injustice  pressing  heavily  upon  her  heart. 

She  paused  in  the  hall  a  moment,  after  closing  the 


1 92  KATHERINE'S 

door,  trying  to  calm  her  perturbed  thoughts,  when 
these  words  from  her  dear  "little  book"  came  to  her: 

"Let  Truth  uncover  and  destroy  error  in  God's  own 
way,  and  let  human  justice  wait  on  the  divine."* 

Then  she  went  on  her  way,  at  peace  with  herself 
and  all  the  world. 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  542. 


SHEAVES  193 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"Hilton  Volunteers:' 

After  Katherine  was  dismissed,  Jennie  was  sternly 
reprimanded  for  her  infraction  of  rules,  cautioned 
against  future  disobedience,  a  penalty  imposed  upon 
her,  and  then  told  she  might  go  back  to  her  duties. 

She  moved  slowly  to  the  door,  stood  there  a  moment 
irresolute,  a  thoughtful  look  on  her  young  face;  then 
deliberately  turned  and  walked  straight  back  to  her 
principal. 

"Prof.  Seabrook,"  she  began,  "I  have  another  con- 
fession to  make  to  you,  and  I'm  willing  to  take  any 
punishment  you  may  think  I  deserve.  I  do  this  be- 
cause I  want  you  to  know  the  kind  of  girl  Miss  Min- 
turn  is,  for — I  think  you  do  not  half  appreciate  her. 
I've  loved  her  from  the  first  minute  I  saw  her  in  this 
room  with  you,  the  day  she  came;  she  makes  every- 
body love  her,  and  I've  often  wondered  if  it  is  her 
Christian  Science  that  helps  her  to  be  so — so  dear  and 
true.  I've  tried  to  make  her  tell  me  something  about 
it,  but  she  wouldn't — she  always  says  you  told  her  not 
to  talk  about  it  to  the  students.  I  asked  her  last  week 
to  let  me  go  with  her  to  her  service  on  Sunday.  But 
she  said  no,  unless  I  would  get  permission  from  you. 
But — I  did  go,"  Jennie  continued,  growing  scarlet  to 
her  brows,  yet  looking  the  man  unflinchingly  in  the 


194  KATHERINE'S 

eyes.  "I  started  out  early  and  was  there  when  she 
came  into  the  hall,  and  walked  home  with  her  after- 
wards. She  didn't  spare  me;  she  told  me  I  had  done 
wrong  and  read  me  a  lecture  about  spoiling  my  record 
by  breaking  rules.  I  want  you  to  know  this,  because 
some  one  may  have  seen  us  come  out  of  the  Christian 
Science  hall  together  and  might  think  she  took  me 
there ;  but  she  never  breaks  a  rule,  and  she  isn't  a  bit 
priggish  about  it,  either.  She  tried  her  best  to  make 
me  go  back  to  my  room  before  the  'racket'  last  night, 
and  I  just  want  you  to  know  that  she's  true  blue, 
through  and  through." 

Jennie  looked  very  spirited  and  pretty  with  her 
flushed  cheeks  and  glowing  eyes  as  she  faced  her  prin- 
cipal, and,  without  flinching  a  hair,  told  her  simple, 
straightforward  story  in  the  presence  of  the  other 
teachers. 

Prof.  Seabrook  was  fond  of  the  girl,  for  she  pos- 
sessed many  lovable  qualities  and  was  very  faithful  in 
the  performance  of  her  duties.  If  he  had  been  inclined 
to  be  severe,  because  of  her  other  offense,  his  heart 
was  very  tender  towards  her  now ;  for  he  fully  appre- 
ciated her  honesty  and  the  moral  courage  she  had 
manifested  in  taking  this  stand  for  Katherine. 

He  was  uncomfortably  conscious,  too,  that  his  own 
attitude  towards  Miss  Minturn  had  not  been  quite  con- 
siderate. He  recognized  her  loveliness  of  character, 
her  excellence  in  scholarship,  her  conscientious  deport- 
ment ;  in  fact,  he  had  no  fault  whatever  to  find  with  her, 
except  that  she  was  a  Christian  Scientist,  and  the  re- 
membrance of  this  always  stirred  him,  in  the  most  un- 


SHEAVES  195 

accountable  manner,  whenever  he  came  in  contact  with 
her. 

He  regarded  Jennie  thoughtfully  for  a  moment  after 
she  concluded,  then  a  gleam  of  amusement  crept  into 
his  eyes  and  his  lips  twitched  with  repressed  mirth,  as 
he  dryly  observed : 

"Well,  Jennie,  it  seems  that  you  are  making  quite  a 
record  for  yourself  by  breaking  rules.  I  hope  there 
will  be  no  occasion  for  further  self-condemnation  after 
this.  You  may  go  now." 

The  girl  was  glad  to  go,  and  was  "scared  stiff,"  as 
she  affirmed  afterward,  when  she  came  to  think  over 
what  she  had  said.  But  her  desire  to  have  justice  done 
Katherine  had  made  her  forget  herself,  for  the  time,  in 
defending  her. 

Still,  as  was  characteristic,  her  spirits  quickly  re- 
bounded, and  she  flew  away  to  find  some  of  the  sophs 
and  reel  off  a  graphic  report  of  what  had  just  occurred 
in  the  principal's  study. 

Consternation  at  once  took  possession  of  some  of 
their  number,  for  it  was  evident  that,  even  though 
Prof.  Seabrook  and  the  teachers  were  ignorant  of  the 
names  of  the  guilty  ones,  Miss  Minturn  had  recognized 
the  ringleaders,  and  so  their  supposed  secret  was  out. 

A  private  meeting  of  all  concerned  was  immediately 
called,  and  the  matter  thoroughly  discussed. 

"So  Miss  Minturn  claims  it  would  'rob  us  of  our 
moral  responsibility'  if  she  should  give  us  away!"  re- 
marked Rose  Tuttle,  a  buxom  girl  of  eighteen,  with  a 
roguish  face  and  an  independent  air.  "That's  a  novel 
way  of  looking  at  it — isn't  it,  girls? — and  escaping  the 


196  KATHERINE'S 

fate  of  a  'telltale,'  "  and  the  ringing  laugh  which  com- 
pleted these  remarks  was  echoed  by  several  others. 

"Puts  us  in  a  tight  box,  though,"  said  Carrie  Archer, 
another  merry  sprite,  as  she  gnawed  the  rubber  on  her 
pencil  with  a  thoughtful  air. 

"All  the  same,  I  think  Katherine  Minturn  is  O.  K., 
and  I'm  ready  to  make  my  best  courtesy  to  her," 
gravely  observed  a  girl  who  was  sitting  beside  her. 

"Well,  I  begin  to  think  she  is  rather  fine  myself,  in 
spite  of  her  absurd  Christian  Science.  But  what  are 
we  going  to  do  about  this  affair?"  inquired  Miss  Tut- 
tle,  with  an  impatient  shrug  of  her  plump  shoulders. 

"Oh,  let's  fight  it  out,"  cried  a  shrill  voice  from  a 
corner. 

"That  means  let  Miss  Minturn  fight  it  out,"  re- 
torted Carrie  Archer,  spiritedly. 

"Well,  she's  game — she  worp,  tell,  and  it  will  all  die 
out  of  itself,  after  a  while."  ~ 

"But  that  would  leave  a  very  uncomfortable  sting 
behind — the  sting  of  cowardice,"  said  Rose  Tuttle, 
with  very  red  cheeks.  "I  tell  you  what,  my  dear  fel- 
low sophs,"  she  went  on,  after  an  irresolute  pause,  "if 
Miss  Minturn  had  given  us  away  to-day  every  mother's 
daughter  of  us  would  have  called  her  a  'spy'  and  a 
'tattler.'  But,  although  she  knows  exactly  as  well  as 
you  and  I  do" — a  chuckle  of  mirth  escaping  her — "who 
tied  those  ropes  to  the  doors,  she  has  just  faced  the 
professor  and  those  teachers  and  practically  told  them 
that  she  would  not  give  us  away." 

"Why  couldn't  she  have  held  her  tongue  altogether, 
then  ?"  grumbled  a  discontented  voice. 


SHEAVES  197 

"Good  gracious,  Nell!  knowing  what  she  did  she 
couldn't  keep  mum  and  let  'Wild  Jen' — poor  goosie! 
whose  curiosity  is  always  getting  her  into  some  scrape 
or  other — bear  the  whole  brunt  of  it,"  Miss  Archer  re- 
plied, with  curling  lips.  "No,  she  has  put  us  upon  our 
honor,  and  if  we  don't  do  the  square  thing  I  think 
she'll  have  a  right  to  call  us — sneaks." 

"Carrie,  you're  hitting  out  pretty  straight  from  the 
shoulder,"  cried  her  friend  Rose,  with  a  short  laugh. 

"Well,  maybe;  but  I  didn't  miss  myself  in  the  trial 
of  my  muscle,"  was  the  dry  rejoinder. 

There  was  much  more  talk  after  the  same  order,  the 
ayes  and  nays  on  the  question  of  "open  confession" 
being  about  equally  divided ;  while  all  began  to  feel 
that  there  wasn't  quite  as  much  fun  as  they  had  antici- 
pated to  be  gotten  out  of  midnight  escapades. 

"Well,  sophies,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do," 
finally  said  Miss  Archer,  breaking  in  upon  the  hubbub 
of  voices,  a  look  of  determination  settling  over  her  face, 
"but  first  I'll  say  what  I'm  not  going  to  do:  I'm  never 
going  to  hear  it  said  that  I  forced  somebody  else  to 
stand  in  a  gap  that  I  hadn't  the  courage  to  fill.  I'm  not 
going  to  sneak  out  of  sight  behind  another  to  save 
myself.  I  started  this  ball  rolling  and  planned  the  de- 
tails of  the  affair,  and,  now,  I  am  going  straight  to 
Prof.  Seabrook  and  tell  him  so  and  swallow  the  bitter 
pill  he  gives  me  with  what  grace  I  can.  It  won't  be 
sugar-coated,  either.  I  won't  give  anyone  else  away, 
so  don't  be  afraid,"  she  interposed  in  response  to  ter- 
rified exclamations  and  frightened  faces.  "I'll  just  do 
the  square  thing  myself,  and  you  know  it  is  always 


198  KATHERINE'S 

the  commanding  officer  who  is  held  responsible  for 
leading  his  subordinates  astray." 

Miss  Archer  was  the  daughter  of  an  ex-colonel, 
which  will  account  for  her  simile. 

There  was  dead  silence  for  a  full  minute  after  she 
ceased  speaking,  and  the  faces  in  that  quiet  room  would 
have  been  an  interesting  study  for  a  physiognomist. 

Then  Rose  Tuttle  sprang  to  her  feet  and  held  out 
her  hand  to  her  friend. 

"I  wonder  who  is  'game'  now  ?"  she  cried,  in  a  ring- 
ing voice. 

Miss  Archer's  eyes  flashed  with  sudden  inspiration. 

"Here!  give  me  a  pencil,  somebody;  I've  broken 
the  point  off  mine,"  she  said,  as  she  moved  her  chair  to 
a  table  and  drew  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  towards  her. 

Half  a  dozen  were  handed  her,  and,  selecting  one, 
she  continued : 

"This  is  going  to  be  a  voluntary  surrender.  I'm  not 
going  to  wait  to  be  summoned  before  my  superior 
officer  and  'given  an  opportunity.' "' 

She  wrote  rapidly  for  a  few  minutes,  while  her  com- 
panions regarded  her  in  curious  silence. 

"Hear  now,"  she  finally  commanded,  as  she  threw 
down  her  pencil,  and,  lifting  her  paper  with  an  im- 
pressive flourish,  read : 

"To  THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF  AT  HILTON  :  News 
of  certain  matters,  pending  at  headquarters,  just  re- 
ceived by  scout.  Wherefore  this  is  to  certify  that  the 
undersigned  planned  and  led  the  attack  on  West  Wing 
on  the  night  of  May  the  twentieth.  In  view  of  the  de- 
mands of  honor,  of  admiration  for,  and  the  sentence 
menacing  the  valiant  party  at  present  held  as  hostage, 


SHEAVES  199 

I  hereby  make  confession,  and  unconditional  surrender, 
together  with  all  munitions  of  war,  and  also  herewith 
beg  absolution  for  subordinates. 

"Signed.        CAROLINE  WEBSTER  ARCHER, 
"Capt.  Co.  S,  Hilton  Volunteers,  U.  S.  A." 


"How  will  that  do,  my  brave  company  of  sopho- 
mores?" she  cried,  with  laughing  eyes,  as  she  finished 
reading  her  effusion.  "I'm  afraid  it  isn't  quite  up  to 
the  mark  in  military  technicalities,  but,  perhaps,  it  will 
answer  our  purpose." 

"It  isn't  going  to  do  at  all,  Carolina  mia,"  returned 
Rose  Tuttle,  with  an  emphatic  nod  of  her  head.  "If 
you  assume  that  you  were  the  captain  in  the  fracas, 
I  certainly  was  first  lieutenant,  and  I'm  going  to  stand 
by  the  cap.  until  the  last  gun  is  fired.  Give  me  that 
paper." 

It  was  passed  to  her,  and  in  a  clear,  bold  hand  she 
wrote  : 

"The  captain  cannot  be  allowed  to  go  to  the  front 
alone. 

"Signed.        ROSE  ASHLEY  TUTTLE, 
"First  Lieutenant  Co.  S,  H.  V.,  U.  S.  A." 

There  were  grave  faces  all  about  her  as  she  read 
what  she  had  written  and  then  pushed  the  paper  from 
her. 

Presently  a  voice  remarked: 

"Girls,  good  soldiers  always  follow  their  leader." 
Then  another  figure  glided  to  the  table  and  a  third 
signature  was  appended  to  the  document. 

It  was  the  "bugle  call"  that  fired  them  all,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  record  it,  the  name  of  every  other 


200  KATHERINE'S 

girl  in  the  room  was  signed  underneath,  then  inclosed 
in  a  bracket  and  the  name  "Private  Co.  S,  H.  V., 
U.  S.  A."  written  outside  of  it,  after  which  the  paper 
was  passed  back  to  Miss  Archer. 

"Company  S,  I'm  proud  of  you !"  she  exclaimed, 
with  crimson  cheeks  and  something  very  like  tears  in 
her  eyes. 

"I — I  hope  the  professor  won't  think  it  is  too — too 
flippant,"  some  one  suggested,  in  a  doubtful  tone. 

"Do  you  suppose  he  will,  Carrie?"  queried  Rose, 
turning  to  her  friend  in  sudden  consternation. 

Miss  Archer  flushed  hotly. 

"I — don't — know,"  she  said,  with  a  thoughtful  pause 
between  each  word.  "I  am  sure  I  did  not  mean  it  to 
sound  so.  The  idea  came  to  me  to  put  it  that  way  when 
I  spoke  of  the  'commanding  officer  being  held  respon- 
sible.' I'll  tear  it  up,  if  you  say  so,  and  go  and  tell 
him  the  whole  story  instead."  And  she  held  it  up  be- 
tween the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  both  hands  as  if  to 
suit  the  act  to  her  words. 

"No!  no!"  "Send  it  as  it  is!"  "It's  all  right!" 
"He'll  understand !"  cried  several  voices ;  though  one 
weak  sister  murmured,  with  a  plaintive  sigh :  "I'll  be 
glad  when  it's  all  over." 

"This  having  to  face  a  'court-martial'  was  over- 
looked in  planning  the  campaign,  hey?"  observed  an- 
other, with  a  grimace. 

"I  don't  care!  It  was  fun  to  hear  those  teachers 
tugging  at  their  doors  for  dear  life,  and  I  have  it  from 
an  eyewitness,  when  Johnson  cut  Miss  Craigis  loose 
she  keeled  over  in  the  most  undignified  manner!" 
laughed  a  pert  young  miss,  who  was  one  of  the  gid- 


SHEAVES  201 

diest  in  the  class.  "And,  oh!"  she  went  on,  breath- 
lessly, "did  you  see  poor  old  Webb  on  the  upper  floor? 
It  was  perfectly  killing!  She  had  on  that  startling 
palm-leaf  kimono — her  false  front  had  slipped  down 
over  one  ear;  she  had  her  precious  herbarium  under 
one  arm,  her  bird  cage  in  one  hand,  and  a  huge  hatbox 
in  the  other.  She  was  frightened  nearly  out  of  her 
senses,  and  demanded,  right  and  left,  'Young  ladies, 
where  is  the  fire  ?  oh,  where  is  the  fire  ?'  " 

A  merry  shout  greeted  this  graphic  description,  and 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  some  of  the  delinquents  were  not 
as  deeply  impressed  with  the  enormity  of  their  recent 
insubordination  as  could  have  been  desired. 

"Sh!  sh!  do  hush,  girls!"  cried  Miss  Archer, 
waving  her  paper  to  enjoin  silence.  "This  will  have  to 
be  nicely  copied  in  ink,  and  you'll  ail  have  to  sign  it 
again.  And  let  me  warn  you,"  she  added,  soberly, 
"you'd  better  keep  pretty  mum  about  last  night,  or  we 
will  get  a  bigger  pill  than  will  be  comfortable  to 
swallow." 

She  seated  herself  at  the  table  again  and  made  a 
neat  copy  of  her  document,  after  which  the  signatures 
were  carefully  appended,  then  the  meeting  was  dis- 
missed, and  the  "captain"  of  the  disorderly  sophomores 
went  directly  to  Prof.  Seabrook's  study. 

It  was  very  nearly  supper  time,  and  she  had  reasoned 
that  he  would  issue  an  order,  at  the  table,  for  the 
class  to  meet  him  in  one  of  the  recitation  rooms,  in  the 
near  future,  to  give  the  guilty  ones  an  opportunity  for 
confession ;  and  her  plan  was  to  forestall  this  summons 
with  the  paper  she  had  prepared. 


202  KATHERINE'S 

When,  in  response  to  her  knock,  he  bade  her  "come 
in,"  it  must  be  confessed  that  she  opened  the  door  with 
fear  and  trembling;  while  something  in  her  bearing 
and  the  tense  lines  of  her  face  at  once  aroused  a  sus- 
picion of  the  nature  of  her  errand  in  the  principal's 
mind. 

"Prof.  Seabrook,  I  have  been  commissioned  to  hand 
you  this  communication,"  she  gravely  said,  as  she  laid 
it  on  the  table  before  him. 

"Ah !  by  whom  were  you  'commissioned,'  Miss 
Archer?"  he  inquired,  his  keen  eyes  searching  her 
flushed  face. 

"By — by  the  parties  whose  names  you  will  find 
signed  to  it." 

"And  what  is  the  nature  of  the  communication  ?" 

"I — er — it  will  explain  itself,"  replied  the  trembling 
emissary,  blushing  furiously  and  averting  her  eyes. 

"Very  well ;  I  will  give  it  my  earliest  attention,"  the 
professor  returned,  but  eying  the  missive  curiously. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  and,  with  a  nervous  bow,  entirely 
at  variance  with  her  habitual  sang-froid,  the  girl  hur- 
ried from  the  room,  her  bounding  heart  causing  her  to 
pant  as  if  she  had  been  running  a  race. 

Prof.  Seabrook  waited  until  the  door  closed  after 
her,  then  unfolded  the  paper  and  began  to  read.  But 
his  face  grew  stern  and  his  brow  heavily  overcast  as  his 
glance  hastily  swept  the  page. 

After  reading  it  through  and  noting  every  signature, 
he  began  it  again,  perusing  it  more  carefully,  and, 
gradually,  a  gleam  of  amusement  crept  into  his  eyes; 


SHEAVES  203 

his  stern  features  relaxed,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
twitched  suggestively. 

"The  little  mischief  is  game,"  he  at  length  observed, 
"and  this  document  is  a  very  clever  stroke  of  business ; 
though  at  first  it  sounded  rather  pert,  as  if  she  were 
bound  to  make  a  joke  of  the  affair.  But  there  is  a 
straightforwardness  and  an  appreciation  of  Miss  Min- 
turn's  position  in  it  that  rings  true.  Really,  I  begin  to 
think  that  girl  is  a  power  for  good  in  the  school,  in 
spite  of  her  fanaticism  and  heresy.  Hum !" — reading 
aloud — "  'news  of  matters  pending  at  headquarters' — 
it  traveled  pretty  fast;  who  was  the  'scout,'  I  wonder? 
Ah !  Jennie,  of  course ;  the  little  gossip !  Well,  Miss 
Archer,  you  didn't  waste  any  time  before  dispatching 
your  flag  of  truce,  and  you  have  rather  a  fine  sense 
of  honor  underneath  your  lawlessness,  after  all.  So 
you  are  'captain'  of  your  company  of  sophomores !  I 
think  we  will  rob  you  of  your  commission  and  see 
how  you  will  stand  the  discipline.  'Co.  S,  Hilton 
Volunteers !'  pretty  good — pretty  good !"  and  a  light 
laugh  rippled  over  the  man's  lips.  "And  Miss  Tuttle 
is  'first  lieutenant,'  "  he  continued,  "and  gallantly  came 
forward  to  share  the  self-imposed  mission  of  her 
friend  'to  go  to  the  front.'  There's  pluck  there,  too; 
but  you  are  a  precocious  pair — you  two — and  keep  one 
busy  guessing  what  you  will  do  next.  All  the  same, 
with  the  right  check-rein,  I  believe  you'll  both  make 
fine  women,  and — the  school  would  surely  lose  some  of 
its  spice  without  you." 

He  carefully  refolded  the  quaint  document,  locking  it 
in  a  drawer  of  his  desk,  and  the  next  moment  the  sup- 
per bell  rang. 


204  KATHERINE'S 

A  meeting  of  the  faculty  was  called  for  that  evening, 
when  the  communication  from  the  mischief-makers 
was  read  and  discussed ;  and,  in  spite  of  their  lawless- 
ness, which  demanded  the  imposition  of  a  penalty 
severe  enough  to  insure  immunity  from  future  ebulli- 
tions of  the  same  nature,  the  originality  and  spirit  per- 
vading it  were  thoroughly  appreciated  by  all.<jpgi* 

The  following  day,  at  dinner,  Prof.  Seabrook  gravely 
announced  that  he  would  meet  the  sophomore  class  at 
four-thirty,  that  afternoon,  in  the  "north  recitation 
room,"  and  every  member  was  ordered  to  be  present. 

There  were  some  quaking  hearts  during  the  inter- 
vening hours,  and  there  were  not  a  few  anxious  faces 
among  the  thirty-six  sophomores  gathered  in  the  ap- 
pointed place,  when  the  principal  appeared  upon  the 
scene  and  at  once  proceeded  to  business. 

"Young  ladies,"  he  began,  "I  have  summoned  the  en- 
tire class  here  in  order  that  those  who  are  innocent 
of  wrong  may  know  that  they  are  no  longer  under  the 
ban  of  suspicion,  in  connection  with  the  disgraceful 
escapade  of  Monday  night;  and,  also,  that  those  who 
were  guilty  of  complicity  in  it  may  acknowledge  their 
offense  in  their  presence.  Those  of  you  who  have  made 
confession  to  that  effect  may  rise." 

Fourteen  of  the  class  arose  and  stood  with  downcast 
faces,  awaiting  what  was  to  follow. 

"Were  there  any  other  accomplices  in  the  affair?" 
inquired  the  principal,  glancing  around  upon  those  who 
had  remained  seated. 

No  one  responded  or  moved,  and  he  then  proceeded 
to  arraign  the  offenders  in  no  light  terms,  and  not  one 


SHEAVES  205 

ever  forgot  the  scathing  words  that  fell  from  his  lips 
or  the  shame  which  followed  his  vivid  portrayal  of 
their  hoidenish  behavior. 

"And  now,"  he  said  in  conclusion, "for  two  weeks  you 
will  forfeit  your  afternoon  recreation  hour,  and  pass 
it  in  this  room  with  your  books,  and  with  a  monitor  to 
preserve  order.  Miss  Archer  and  Miss  Tuttle,  who 
acknowledge  having  been  the  ringleaders,  will  be  on 
probation  for  the  remainder  of  the  year,  and  any  further 
infringement  of  rules  will  be  followed  by  summary 
expulsion.  I  will  add" — and  the  professor's  stern  face 
relaxed  visibly — "that  you  all  have  saved  yourselves 
much  by  your  voluntary  confession ;  but  the  'Hilton 
Volunteers'  are  here  and  now  disbanded  for  all  time. 
Young  ladies,  you  are  dismissed." 

Well,  it  was  over,  and  heavy  hearts  grew  lighter, 
though  there  were  some  who  were  inclined  to  grumble 
over  the  severity  of  the  penalty. 

Carrie  Archer  and  Rose  Tuttle  made  no  talk  what- 
ever about  the  matter.  Both  felt  that  they  had  had  a 
narrow  escape,  and  were  thankful,  even  under  the  sen- 
tence of  "probation." 

Of  course,  the  whole  affair  was  aired  and  freely  dis- 
cussed by  the  entire  school,  and  thus  Katherine  be- 
came somewhat  conspicuous  because  of  her  forced  par- 
ticipation in  it ;  while  it  was  interesting  to  observe  how 
radically  the  attitude  of  almost  everyone  changed  to- 
wards her,  the  sophomores,  particularly,  manifesting 
the  greatest  admiration  for  her. 

Miss  Archer  and  Miss  Tuttle  were  the  first  to  ex- 
press their  appreciation  of  the  stand  she  had  taken 


206  KATHERINE'S 

in  their  behalf,  and  her  sweet  reception  of  their  over- 
tures made  them  her  stanch  friends  for  all  time. 

"I'll  never  sneer  at  Christian  Scientists  again,"  Rose 
afterwards  confided  to  her  friend,  "for  if  they  are  all 
as  lovely  and  plucky  as  she  has  shown  herself,  we 
can't  have  too  many  of  them  in  the  world." 


SHEAVES  207 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

A  Junior  Entertainment. 

The  school  year  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
every  student  was  busy  preparing  for  examinations  and 
annual  exercises,  and  also  looking  forward  to  the  pleas- 
urable excitement  attending  class-day  ceremonies,  en- 
tertainments, receptions,  etc. 

The  first  week  in  June  it  was  customary  for  the 
juniors  to  give  a  special  exhibition,  to  be  followed  by  a 
social,  with  dancing  and  a  fine  spread,  in  honor  of  the 
retiring  seniors,  and  upon  this  grand  occasion  each 
student  in  both  classes  was  privileged  to  invite  some 
friend  from  outside. 

So  much  had  been  said  in  praise  of  Katherine's  little 
play  and  paper  on  "Transcendentalism,"  it  was  sug- 
gested they  be  repeated  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
had  not  heard  them,  and  allow  visitors  and  strangers 
to  guess  the  conundrum  and  charade. 

The  whole  school  had  heard  the  story  of  that  Junior 
League  meeting,  for  it  had  been  too  good  to  keep, 
and  it  had  aroused  so  much  interest,  both  among 
teachers  and  students,  the  juniors  finally  persuaded 
Katherine  to  reproduce  her  clever  effort. 

Besides  this,  the  programme  consisted  of  another 
original  play,  written  by  some  of  the  class,  two  or  three 
choice  selections  from  the  Glee  Club,  and  was  to  wind 
up  with  some  fine  tableaux. 


208  KATHERINE'S 

The  important  day  arrived  and  was  attended  by  no 
end  of  worry,  work  and  excitement.  The  final  re- 
hearsal of  the  play  proved,  as  is  often  the  case,  any- 
thing but  satisfactory ;  but  when  it  came  to  the  "last  tug 
of  war"  in  the  evening,  everything  "went  off  without 
a  hitch,"  only  those  behind  the  scenes  being  aware  of 
the  strenuous  efforts  put  forth  to  achieve  this  result. 

It  was  accordingly  pronounced  "a  great  success." 
Katherine's  production  contributed  the  element  of 
comedy,  while  the  vocabulary  of  adjectives  was  insuffi- 
cient to  express  appreciation  of  the  tableaux. 

The  last  one,  or  "grand  finale,"  is  worthy  of  special 
mention,  for  various  reasons.  It  was  billed  as  "The 
Carnival  of  Flowers,"  and  included  all  the  members  of 
the  junior  class.  Each  was  in  evening  dress  and  was 
either  profusely  decorated  with,  or  carried,  an  elaborate 
design  of  the  flower  which  she  had  chosen  to  represent. 

Dorothy,  who  had  been  unusually  comfortable  during 
the  two  weeks  preceding,  had  been  deeply  interested 
in  the  preparations  for  this  great  event,  and,  one  day, 
when  Katherine  was  consulting  Mrs.  Seabrook  upon 
some  important  point,  she  had  exclaimed,  with  a  long- 
drawn  sigh : 

"Oh !  how  I  wish  I  could  be  in  it,  too." 

"I  wish  you  could,  dear,"  said  Katherine,  bending 
to  kiss  the  wistful  face.  "Well — why  can't  she?"  she 
added,  turning  suddenly  to  Mrs.  Seabrook ;  "she  could 
have  a  place  in  the  Carnival  of  Flowers.  Will  you 
allow  her  to?" 

Mrs.  Seabrook  smiled,  but  there  was  a  sad  yearning1 
in  her  soft  eyes  as  they  rested  upon  her  helpless  child. 


SHEAVES  209 

"I  hardly  think  it  would  do.  I  am  afraid  it  could 
not  be  arranged,"  she  doubtfully  replied. 

"Indeed  it  could,  and  very  easily.  I  have  a  lovely 
idea!"  said  Katherine,  eagerly.  "Let  her  take  the 
Calla  Lily — no  one  has  chosen  that  because  the  flowers 
are  too  stiff  to  trim  a  dress  gracefully.  But  Dorothy's 
chair  could  be  transformed  into  a  chariot  of  lilies,  and 
I  am  sure  they  could  be  so  arranged  about  her  that  she 
would  look  like  a  fairy  in  the  midst  of  them.  If  you 
are  willing  I  will  talk  it  over  with  the  girls.  We  will 
manage  everything,  so  that  she  will  not  be  wearied 
with  any  of  the  preparations,  and  I  will  take  charge  of 
her  while  she  is  on  the  stage.  I  know  that  she  would 
have  a  beautiful  time." 

"Oh,  mamma,  if  I  only  might!"  breathed  Dorothy, 
rapturously,  and  carried  away  by  the  attractive  pros- 
pect. 

"Well,  we  will  talk  it  over  with  papa ;  if  he  consents 
I  will  not  say  no,  and  certainly  Miss  Minturn's  sug- 
gestion is  very  alluring,"  replied  her  mother,  as  she 
bestowed  a  grateful  smile  on  Katherine. 

Prof.  Seabrook  could  see  no  objection  to  the  plan, 
and  as  everybody  was  always  glad  to  contribute  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  sick  girl,  the  idea  was  eagerly 
adopted,  and  Miss  Dorothy  was  at  once  chosen  to  be 
the  central  figure  in  the  tableau. 

It  proved  to  be  a  most  effective  one,  with  the  bevy  of 
gorgeously  garlanded  maidens  artistically  grouped 
around  their  lily  queen,  who  entered  heartily  into  the 
spirit  of  the  scene. 

The  child's  chair  had  indeed  been  transformed !    No 


2io  KATHERINE'S 

one  would  have  recognized  it,  covered  as  it  was  with 
a  wealth  of  pure  white  blossoms  and  dark-green  leaves, 
for  it  looked  more  like  the  throne  of  a  fairy  than  like 
anything  so  ordinary  and  unpretentious.  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook,  who  possessed  exquisite  taste,  had  so  massed 
the  blossoms  around  her  and  daintily  perched  an  in- 
verted one  on  her  head  that  the  effect  was  exceedingly 
beautiful  and  picturesque.  Katherine,  who  had  chosen 
to  be  "Lady  Poppea,"  made  a  brilliant  foil,  on  one  side, 
with  her  garlands  and  basket  of  vivid  scarlet  poppies; 
while  another  junior,  bedecked  with  fuchsias,  stood  on 
the  opposite  side  and  held  an  umbrella,  made  of  and 
fringed  with  the  same  flowers,  protectingly  over  her; 
and  with  a  score  or  more  others  forming  a  variegated 
background,  the  scene  was  brilliant  and  gorgeous  be- 
yond description. 

The  applause  was  tumultuous;  for,  aside  from  the 
exceeding  beauty  of  the  picture,  every  heart  in  the 
audience  was  touched  by  the  happy  little  face  looking 
out  at  them  from  the  midst  of  her  devoted  subjects, 
and  the  curtain  was  raised  and  lowered  several  times 
before  they  could  be  satisfied. 

Then  the  proud  and  happy  juniors  hastily  divested 
themselves  of  their  gay  trappings  and  hurried  away 
to  join  their  friends  and  trip  to  inspiring  music  in  the 
main  hall  below ;  thus  Katherine  was  left  with  Dorothy 
alone  on  the  stage. 

"Wasn't  it  perfectly  lovely,  Miss  Minturn?"  ex- 
claimed the  girl  in  a  rapturous  tone  and  with  shining 
eyes.  "I  never  saw  you  look  so  pretty,  and  I  never 
had  such  a  happy  time  in  all  my  life.  I  only  wish  I 
could  have  seen  the  whole  of  it." 


SHEAVES  211 

"I  think  you  will,  later;  or  at  least  something  very 
like  it ;  for,  when  that  flash  light  was  thrown  on,  as  the 
curtain  went  up  the  last  time,  somebody  took  a  snap- 
shot at  us,"  Katherine  replied,  smiling  fondly  into  the 
eager  face. 

"Oh!  who  was  it?" 

"Some  one  whom  you  know.    Guess !" 

"Uncle  Phil?" 

"Yes;  he  asked  permission  of  the  president  of  the 
class.  But  now  I  must  see  about  getting  you  out  of 
this  place.  I  wonder  where  Alice  can  be !"  said  Kath- 
erine, looking  out  towards  the  deserted  dressing  room 
for  the  nurse,  who  had  promised  to  be  on  hand  to  re- 
ceive her  charge  as  soon  as  everything  was  over. 

She  had  been  disconnecting  several  ropes  of  flowers 
that  had  been  attached  to  the  chair  while  she  was  talk- 
ing, and,  as  no  one  came  to  assist  her,  she  now  rolled 
the  girl  towards  the  side  of  the  stage,  thinking,  per- 
haps, she  might  get  her  off  herself,  as  it  was  not  very 
high. 

But  she  had  missed  one  rope,  and,  as  it  trailed  along 
the  floor,  it  swept  over  a  saucer  containing  some  still 
smoking  Greek  fire,  or  red  light,  that  had  been*  care- 
lessly left  just  where  it  had  been  used. 

The  soft  paper  ignited  in  an  instant,  and  the  next 
moment  the  lower  part  of  the  lily  chariot  was  ablaze. 

"Oh!  Miss  Minturn!"  shrieked  Dorothy,  "save  me! 
save  me !" 

For  a  second  Katherine  thought  she  would  faint. 

The  next  she  snatched  a  portiere  that  had  been  used 
in  one  of  the  tableaux  and  left  upon  the  floor,  and 
wrapped  it  closely  around  the  burning  paper,  beating 


212  KATHERINE'S 

it  with  her  hands  and  doing  her  utmost  to  smother  the 
cruel  flames. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  dear,"  she  said  to  the  girl,  who, 
after  that  one  half-crazed  appeal,  seemed  to  be  par- 
alyzed with  fear,  "you  are  God's  child — you  cannot  be 
harmed.  He  is  Life,  and  there  are  no  fatalities  in  His 
realm,  'though  thou  walk  through  the  fire  thou  shalt 
not  be  burned.'  " 

She  did  not  know  that  she  was  talking  aloud;  she 
was  not  conscious  of  what  she  was  saying;  she  only 
knew  that  she  was  reaching  out,  with  her  whole  soul, 
to  the  ever-present  Love  wherein  lay  protection  and 
safety,  and  all  the  time  mechanically  pulling  the  por- 
tiere closer  about  the  chair. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  low,  startled  exclamation,  saw 
Dorothy  snatched  from  among  the  smoke-blackened 
lilies  and  passed  along  to  Alice,  who  at  last  had  ap- 
peared upon  the  scene;  then,  as  in  a  dream,  she  felt 
herself  enveloped  in  a  shawl  which  was  drawn  so  tightly 
about  her  skirts  that  she  could  not  move,  and  saw  Dr. 
Stanley's  pale,  anxious  face  looking  down  into  hers, 
while  he  told  her,  in  calm,  reassuring  tones,  that  there 
was  nothing  to  fear. 

"Can  you  stand  so  for  a  minute  while  I  look  after 
that  still  smoking  chair?"  he  presently  asked,  and  put- 
ting a  corner  of  the  shawl  into  her  hand  to  hold. 

Fortunately  it  was  her  left  hand,  and  she  grasped 
it  mechanically,  while  she  tried  to  mentally  deny  the 
well-nigh  unbearable  pain  that  was  making  itself  felt 
in  her  right  hand  and  wrist. 

It  was  the  work  of  but  two  or  three  minutes  to  crush 
out  the  last  smoldering  spark  among  the  ruined  lilies, 


SHEAVES  213 

for  the  flames  had  been  effectually  smothered  by  Kath- 
erine's  presence  of  mind  in  wrapping  the  portiere  about 
them  and  by  her  vigorous  beating. 

Then  the  physician  turned  again  to  her  and  gently 
removed  the  shawl  from  her  burned  and  disfigured 
skirts. 

"It  is  all  out,  thank  God!"  he  said,  after  carefully 
looking  her  over.  "It  was  a  narrow  escape  for  you 
and  Dorrie,  as  well  as  from  a  serious  conflagration. 
Now  tell  me,  Miss  Minturn,  are  you  burned  ?"  he  con- 
cluded, searching  her  white  face  with  troubled  eyes. 

She  tried  to  smile  as  she  glanced  down  at  her  ruined 
dress. 

"A  few  dollars  will  make  it  all  right,  and  that  doesn't 
matter,"  she  returned  evasively,  but  with  lips  that  quiv- 
ered in  spite  of  her  effort  at  self-control. 

"You  were  badly  frightened,  poor  child !  but  it  is 
over,"  he  gently  observed,  the  tense  lines  of  his  face 
softening  in  a  reassuring  smile. 

Then,  seeing  that  she  was  keeping  her  right  hand 
out  of  sight,  he  reached  down  and  drew  it  forward 
into  the  light. 

"Miss  Minturn !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  saw  the  red- 
dened flesh  and  three  great  blisters,  "you  did  it  beat- 
ing out  the  fire  to  save  Dorothy.  Come  with  me  and 
I  will  dress  it  immediately." 

"No,"  she  said,  setting  her  teeth  resolutely;  "go  to 
her;  I  shall  do  very  well.  Go!"  she  repeated,  almost 
sharply,  "for  I  saw  that  she  had  fainted  when  Alice 
took  her." 

His  brow  contracted,  and  for  an  instant  he  seemed 
on  the  point  of  insisting  upon  taking  care  of  her  first. 


214  KATHERINE'S 

Then  he  drew  forth  his  handkerchief  and  folded  it 
gently  about  her  hand,  saying: 

"Well,  if  I  must ;  but  go  you  directly  to  your  room 
and  I  will  come  to  you  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Katherine  could  bear  no  more,  and,  turning  abruptly 
from  him,  sped  from  the  place. 

As  she  passed  out  of  the  lecture  hall,  she  almost  ran 
into  Miss  Reynolds,  who  was  on  her  way  downstairs. 

"Katherine!"  she  cried,  aghast,  as  she  caught  sight 
of  her  pain-contracted  face,  the  handkerchief  on  her 
hand  and  her  smoke-blackened  clothes,  "what  has  hap- 
pened ?" 

"Oh !  may  I  go  to  your  room  ?"  gasped  the  girl. 

"Of  course;  come,"  and  without  another  word  the 
woman  turned  and  led  the  way. 

"Lock  the  door  and  don't  let  anyone  in,"  said  Kath- 
erine, as  she  sank  into  the  nearest  chair  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  well  hand. 

Miss  Reynolds  quietly  obeyed,  then  went  to  her  desk 
and  began  to  read  aloud,  in  a  calm,  clear  voice,  from 
the  open  "Science  and  Health"  that  lay  upon  it. 

For  half  an  hour  she  kept  on  without  stopping;  but 
she  then  began  to  be  conscious  that  effectual  work  was 
being  done,  for,  at  first,  the  sufferer  sitting  behind  her 
had  been  unable  to  keep  still  a  moment ;  but  gradually 
she  became  less  restless,  and  at  the  end  of  forty-five 
minutes  had  grown  perfectly  quiet  and  lay  back  in  her 
chair,  her  face  pale  but  peaceful. 

"Dear  Miss  Reynolds,  you  must  go  now.  I  must 
not  keep  you  any  longer,"  she  said,  at  length. 


SHEAVES  215 

"My  child,  I  shall  not  leave  you  while  you  need  me," 
her  teacher  returned,  and,  going  to  her  side,  she  ten- 
derly smoothed  back  the  dark  hair  from  her  forehead. 

"I  am  much  easier,  so  do  not  mind  leaving  me.  You 
will  be  missed,  and  some  one  will  be  coming  for  you ; 
just  let  me  stay  here  for  a  while  and  be  sure  not  to  tell 
anyone  where  I  am,  or  why  I  am  among  the  missing," 
Katherine  pleaded,  for  she  did  not  wish  Dr.  Stanley  to 
learn  her  whereabouts,  knowing  he  would  seek  her  and 
insist  upon  dressing  her  burns. 

"I  will  be  very  discreet ;  but  I  am  going  to  keep  you 
with  me  all  night,"  her  teacher  replied.  "Now,  if  you 
can  bear  it,  I  will  help  you  off  with  your  clothes.  You 
shall  have  one  of  my  night-robes  and  go  straight  to 
bed." 

With  fine  tact  she  had  refrained  from  asking  a  single 
question ;  but  the  suffering  face,  the  pretty  dress  all 
burned  and  discolored,  the  handkerchief  wrapped  about 
her  hand,  told  her  something  of  what  had  occurred, 
and  she  could  wait  until  later  for  details. 

She  dexterously  assisted  her  to  undress ;  but  while 
doing  so  the  handkerchief  was  displaced  and  dropped 
to  the  floor  and  she  had  to  shut  her  lips  resolutely  to 
repress  the  cry  of  pity  that  almost  escaped  her  as  she 
saw  what  it  had  covered.  The  next  instant  she  was 
mentally  repeating  the  "scientific  statement  of  being,"* 
while  she  quietly  replaced  the  square  of  linen  and 
pinned  it  to  keep  it  in  place.  Then,  with  a  grateful 
smile  and  a  sigh  of  content,  Katherine  slipped  into  bed 
and  sank  upon  her  pillow. 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  468. 


216  KATHERINE'S 

"Now  go,  please,"  she  begged  again,  "and  find  out, 
if  you  can,  how  Dorothy  is." 

"No,  Kathie,  I  am  not  going  just  yet,"  was  the  de- 
cided reply,  though  there  was  a  startled  heart-bound 
at  the  girl's  reference  to  Dorothy.  She  asked  no 
questions,  however,  but,  going  back  to  her  desk,  con- 
tinued her  reading  as  before. 

In  about  fifteen  minutes  she  glanced  towards  the  bed 
and  saw  by  her  regular  breathing  that  Katherine  had 
fallen  asleep.  She  bowed  her  head  upon  her  book 
for  a  moment,  and  when  she  lifted  it  again  there  were 
tears  on  her  cheeks,  and  in  her  eyes  "a  light  that  was 
ne'er  on  sea  or  land." 

Turning  the  gas  low,  she  slipped  softly  out  of  the 
room  and  went  downstairs  to  join  the  gay  company 
who  were  all  unconscious  of  what  had  been  going 
on  above. 

Five  minutes  later  Dr.  Stanley  came  to  her,  his  fine 
face  overcast  and  anxious. 

"Miss  Reynolds,  can  you  give  me  any  information 
regarding  Miss  Minturn?"  he  inquired,  adding:  "I 
have  been  looking  for  her  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  no 
one  seems  to  know  where  she  is.  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  about  the  accident?" 

"An  accident?"  repeated  the  lady,  inquiringly. 

"Yes,"  and  he  proceeded  to  give  a  brief  account  of 
the  narrow  escape  in  the  lecture  hall.  "I  told  Miss 
Minturn  to  go  to  her  room,"  he  continued,  "and  I 
would  come  to  her  as  soon  as  I  had  ascertained  if  all 
was  well  with  Dorothy.  The  child  is  all  right;  she 
was  simply  frightened  and  lost  consciousness  for  a  few 
moments.  But  Miss  Minturn  was  badly  burned,  on 


SHEAVES  217 

her  hand  and  arm,  and  her  beautiful  dress  is  a  wreck. 
Mrs.  Seabrook  and  I  have  been  to  her  room;  no  one 
was  there,  nor  can  anyone  give  us  a  clew  to  her  where- 
abouts," and  the  gentleman  looked  really  distressed  as 
he  concluded. 

Miss  Reynolds  had  been  doing  some  practical  think- 
ing while  he  was  talking,  and  now  observed : 

"Well,  Dr.  Stanley,  to  relieve  your  anxiety,  I  will 
tell  you  that  she  is  in  my  room,  where  she  will  remain 
all  night.  But  I  have  disobeyed  her  injunction  to  tell 
no  one  where  she  is.  Fortunately,  I  met  her  just  as 
she  was  leaving  the  lecture  hall,  and  she  begged  shelter 
with  me.  I  have  but  just  left  her." 

"But  she  must  have  attention — her  burns  must  be 
dressed,"  said  the  physician,  in  a  tone  of  professional 
authority. 

"That  will  not  be  necessary,  for  she  is  asleep  and 
resting  quietly." 

"Asleep !  impossible !"  interposed  the  man,  emphat- 
ically; "that  is,  unless  she  has  taken  a  powerful 
opiate." 

"She  has  had  nothing  of  the  kind,"  was  the  quiet 
answer. 

"Then  I  repeat — it  would  be  impossible  for  her  to 
sleep,"  Dr.  Stanley  asserted,  with  a  note  of  impatience 
in  his  tone.  "Why,  only  an  hour  has  elapsed  since 
the  accident,  and,  with  those  burns,  it  would  be  many 
hours  before  she  could  get  any  rest  or  relief  without  an 
opiate.  I  know,"  he  added,  flushing,  "she  is  a  Chris- 
tian Scientist,  but  I  can't  quite  swallow  such  a  miracle 
as  that." 

"Nevertheless,  my  friend,  the  dear  girl,  is  sleeping 


218  KATHERINE'S 

peacefully — or  was,  ten  minutes  ago,"  the  lady 
smilingly  returned. 

"Did  she  put  anything  on  those  burns?" 

"Nothing." 

"Do  you  believe  she  'demonstrated/  as  they  express 
it,  over  the  pain?" 

"I  know,"  she  softly  replied. 

"Ah  !"— with  a  start — "are  you " 

Again  she  smiled  as  she  interposed : 

"I  must  not  say  too  much  about  that  just  now.  I 
will  say  this,  however :  I  have  seen  and  learned  enough 
to  make  me  wish  to  know  more,  for  Katherine  Minturn 
is  an  earnest,  honest  exponent  of  her  religion.  I  am 
very  fond  of  her — she  is  one  of  the  loveliest  girls  I 
have  ever  known." 

"I  can  heartily  agree  with  you  on  that  point,"  replied 
Phillip  Stanley,  gravely.  "But  I  was  hoping  that  I 
could  be  of  service  to  her,  for  we  owe  her  much  for 
her  wonderful  presence  of  mind  and  practical  common 
sense.  But  for  that  Dorothy  would  have  been  badly 
burned  and  a  great  sufferer  at  this  moment,  instead 
of  having  gone  to  bed  the  happiest  girl  in  the  building 
and  full  of  gratitude  to  Miss  Minturn  for  giving  her  so 
much  pleasure.  Will  you  say  to  her,  if  there  is  any 
way  I  can  serve  her,  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  of  the 
opportunity  ?" 

"Indeed  I  will,  and  I  shall  slip  away  very  soon  and 
go  back  to  her,  although  I  am  sure  she  does  not  really 
need  me.  I  am  glad  for  her  sake,  however,  that  to- 
morrow will  be  Saturday." 

"May  I  tell  my  sister  what  you  have  told  me?"  Dr. 
Stanley  inquired.  "I  know  it  would  greatly  relieve  her 


SHEAVES  219 

mind,  for  she  is  much  disturbed  because  Miss  Minturn 
cannot  be  found." 

"Yes ;  I  am  sure  Kathie  would  be  willing,  under  the 
circumstances.  I  know  her  only  fear  was  that  she 
might  be  found  before  her  work  was  done,"  Miss  Rey- 
nolds said,  after  considering  a  moment.  "I  think,"  she 
added,  "she  would  prefer  not  to  have  Dorothy  told 
anything,  except,  perhaps,  that  her  dress  was  injured." 

"Yes;  it  would  mar  her  pleasure,"  her  companion 
observed;  "in  fact,  we  have  said  nothing  about  the 
contretemps  to  anyone  but  the  faculty  as  yet,  fearing  it 
might  spoil  the  evening  for  many.  We  cannot  be  too 
thankful  that  it  was  no  worse;  if  it  had  occurred  be- 
fore that  last  tableau  was  over,  there  is  no  telling  how 
serious  it  might  have  been,  with  so  many  thin  dresses 
and  all  those  paper  flowers,"  he  concluded,  gravely, 
then  bowed  himself  away. 

After  making  the  round  of  the  room,  Miss  Rey- 
nolds sought  Sadie  and  told  her  that  as  Katherine  was 
not  feeling  quite  herself,  she  would  spend  the  night 
with  her;  then  she  stole  away  and  went  back  to  her 
charge. 

Katherine  aroused  when  she  entered  the  room,  but 
showed  no  signs  of  present  suffering. 

"How  is  Dorothy?"  she  questioned,  eagerly. 

"She  was  not  harmed  in  the  least,  and  'went  tombed 
the  happiest  girl  in  the  building,'  so  I  was  told." 

Katherine  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 

She  asked  for  a  glass  of  water  and  drank  thirstily 
when  it  was  brought  to  her. 

"Can  I  do  anything  more  for  you,  Kathie?"  her 
friend  inquired. 


220  KATHERINE'S 

The  girl's  eyes  wandered  to  the  books  on  her  desk. 

"Shall  I  read?— what?" 

"The  twenty-third  psalm,  please." 

Miss  Reynolds  found  and  read  it  as  given  and  in- 
terpreted in  "Science  and  Health'' :  "Divine  Love  is 
my  Shepherd;  I  shall  not  want.  Love  maketh  me  to 
lie  down  in  green  pastures ;  Love  leadeth  me  beside 
still  waters  ;"*  and  so  on  to  the  end. 

Then  she  turned  to  her  own  marker  and  read  for 
herself  a  while. 

The  room  was  very  quiet,  for  the  revelers  below 
were  so  far  away  they  could  not  be  heard.  Only  a 
strain  of  music  from  the  orchestra  was  now  and  then 
wafted  on  a  gentle  breeze  to  them  through  an  open 
window. 

Suddenly  a  deep  sigh  from  the  bed  fell  upon  the 
reader's  ear.  She  started  and  turned  toward  her 
charge. 

"  'Love' — 'still  waters,'  "  murmured  Katherine,  then 
turned  like  a  tired  child  on  her  pillow  and  was  again 
locked  in  slumber. 

Softly,  Miss  Reynolds  laid  aside  her  festal  attire, 
made  a  nest  for  herself  on  her  roomy  couch  and,  to  the 
faintly  flowing  rhythm  of  "The  Beautiful  Blue  Dan- 
ube," soon  lost  herself  in  dreamland,  never  waking 
until  the  brilliant  sun  of  a  glorious  June  morning 
flooded  her  room  and  warned  her  that  a  new  day  had 
begun. 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  16. 


SHEAVES  221 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Dr.  Stanley  Has  An  Object  Lesson. 

She  found  Katharine  already  awake. 

"What  do  you  think  of  tramps  who  take  possession 
of  your  room  and  drive  you  out  of  your  comfortable 
bed?"  playfully  demanded  the  girl,  and  nodding 
brightly  at  her. 

"I  like  it — that  is,  when  I  have  the  privilege  of 
choosing  the  tramp,"  her  teacher  laughingly  responded, 
as  she  sat  up  and  glanced  at  the  clock;  "besides,  this 
couch  is  every  bit  as  comfortable  as  the  bed.  Did  you 
rest  well,  Kathie  ?" 

"Beautifully.  The  last  I  knew,  until  about  ten  min- 
utes ago,  you  were  reading  the  twenty-third  psalm." 

Miss  Reynolds  arose  and  began  to  dress.  Once  or 
twice  she  found  her  eyes  straying  to  Katherine's  band- 
aged hand,  and  longed  to  inquire  regarding  its  condi- 
tion. But  she  wisely  resisted  the  temptation  and  main- 
tained a  discreet  silence. 

"You  will  not  try  to  go  down  to  breakfast,  Kathie," 
she  remarked,  as  she  completed  her  toilet,  and  the  bell 
began  to  ring  just  at  that  moment. 

"No,  I  think  I  will  keep  out  of  sight  to-day.  I  do 
not  wish  to  answer  questions.  Besides,  I  haven't  any- 
thing here  suitable  to  put  on,"  and  she  bestowed  a  rue- 


222  KATHERINE'S 

ful  look  upon  her  pretty  evening  dress,  all  crumpled 
and  burned,  that  lay  over  the  back  of  a  chair. 

"True;  but  I  will  go  for  one  of  your  dresses  when 
I  come  up  from  breakfast,"  said  her  friend;  "mean- 
time, if  you  care  to  get  up,  you  can  slip  on  this  negligee 
of  mine,"  and  she  threw  a  dainty  wrapper  over  the  foot 
of  the  bed  as  she  spoke. 

As  soon  as  Miss  Reynolds  left  the  room,  Katherine 
arose  and  dressed,  then  sat  down  to  read.  She  was 
glad  to  be  alone,  for,  though  she  was  entirely  free  from 
pain,  she  felt  she  still  had  work  to  do  for  herself. 

For  nearly  an  hour  she  read  and  worked  diligently, 
and  then  her  teacher  returned,  bearing  a  tempting 
breakfast,  which  she  soon  dispatched  with  the  appetite 
of  a  healthy,  hungry  girl. 

"I  met  Prof.  Seabrook  and  his  wife  on  my  way  up," 
Miss  Reynolds  observed,  as  she  began  putting  away 
the  things  she  had  worn  the  previous  evening,  "and 
both  inquired  most  kindly  for  you.  The  professor  said 
you  are  excused  from  the  class  lecture  this  morning,  if 
you  wish,  and  Mrs.  Seabrook  will  come  to  see  you 
later.  They  both  expressed  themselves  as  deeply 
grateful  for  what  you  did  last  night." 

"I  scarcely  know  what  I  did,"  Katherine  returned, 
flushing.  "Dr.  Stanley  came  so  quickly  to  the  rescue 
that  it  was  all  over  before  I  could  think  clearly.  It 
seems  like  a  dream." 

"Yes,  he  told  me  all  about  it  last  night,  Kathie,  and 
said  but  for  your  rare  presence  of  mind  there  might 
have  been  a  bad  fire.  He  was  pretty  well  cut  up,  how- 
ever, when  he  found  that  you  had  hidden  yourself  away 
and  he  had  lost  a  patient,"  Miss  Reynolds  replied  with 


SHEAVES  223 

a  laugh  of  amusement,  which  was  merrily  echoed  by 
her  guest. 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  take  much  stock  in  Science, 
dear,"  she  presently  resumed.  "He  was  simply  amazed 
when  I  told  him  you  were  sleeping — I  thought  it  best, 
as  long  as  your  work  was  done,  to  relieve  his  anxiety — 
and  declared  that  was  impossible,  unless  you  had  taken 
a  powerful  opiate." 

"An  opiate  is  something  which  mortal  mind  says 
produces  repose ;  well,  I  had  taken  a  large  dose  of  that 
'Peace,  be  still,'  which,  rightly  administered,  never  fails 
to  give  the  sufferer  and  the  weary  rest,"  said  Kath- 
erine,  with  luminous  eyes. 

"It  was  beautiful,  Kathie,  and,  figuratively  speaking, 
I  'put  off  my  shoes  from  off  my  feet,'  feeling  that  the 
'place  whereon  I  stood  was,  indeed,  holy  ground,'  " 
reverently  observed  her  companion.  "But,  tell  me, 
weren't  you  afraid  when  you  saw  the  flames?" 

"Yes,  for  an  instant,  then  I  forgot  everything  but 
the  'secret  place'  and  'the  shadow.' " 

"How  much  those  words  mean  to  me  now !  And  you 
believe  that  every  statement  of  that  ninety-first  psalm 
can  be  proved — made  practical  ?"  gravely  inquired  Miss 
Reynolds. 

"Every  one." 

"Well,  I  think  I  am  beginning  to  know  it,  too; 
though ,  as  yet,  it  is  like  'seeing  through  a  glass 
darkly,' "  and  a  sweet  seriousness  settled  over  the 
woman's  face.  "But,"  she  went  on,  arousing  herself 
after  a  moment,  "if  you  will  tell  me  what  to  bring  you 
I  will  now  go  to  your  room  for  some  clothes." 


224  KATHERINE'S 

"Really,  I  am  perfectly  able  to  go  for  them  myself," 
Katherine  began. 

"No,  indeed;  you  are  going  to  remain  just  where 
you  are,  at  least  for  the  morning,"  said  her  teacher, 
authoritatively.  "At  this  hour  you  would  be  sure  to 
meet  many  of  the  students  and  become  the  target  for 
innumerable  questions." 

"Well,  then,  bring  my  linen  suit  and  my  'Horace,' 
please.  I  have  to  complete  an  essay  on  that  accom- 
plished and  agreeable  gentleman  'as  a  poet  and  a  wit,' 
and  I  can  spend  the  morning  working  upon  it." 

Miss  Reynolds  slipped  away  on  her  errand,  but  she 
no  sooner  reached  the  main  hall  than  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  bevy  of  excited  maidens  and  besieged 
with  a  volley  of  inquiries  regarding  the  accident  of  the 
previous  night. 

Dorothy's  nurse,  Alice,  had  described  the  scene  in 
the  lecture  hall  to  one  of  the  maids,  when,  of  course, 
the  news  had  spread  like  wildfire,  and  it,  together 
with  Katherine's  "heroism,"  was  the  one  topic  of  the 
day.  Sadie  had  also  heard  it  and  was  on  her  way  to 
see  her  chum  when  she,  too,  met  the  teacher  in  the 
hall. 

She  went  back  to  her  room  with  her,  found  the  things 
Katherine  had  designated,  and  then,  as  it  was  nearly 
time  for  the  class  lecture,  sent  word  that  she  would 
come  to  see  her  after  study  hours  were  over. 

When  Miss  Reynolds  reached  her  own  door  again, 
she  found  a  maid  standing  there  with  a  long  box  in  her 
hands. 

"Mrs.  Seabrook  told  me  to  bring  this  up  to  you, 
marm,"  the  girl  observed;  but  on  entering  her  room 


SHEAVES  225 

and  relieving  herself  of  her  armful  of  clothing,  she 
saw  that  the  package  was  addressed  to  "Miss  Katherine 
Minturn." 

"What  have  we  here,  I  wonder?"  she  remarked,  as 
she  passed  it  to  her  companion,  together  with  a  pair  of 
scissors. 

Katherine  cut  the  string  and  lifted  the  cover,  when 
a  cry  of  delight  broke  from  her. 

"Dear  Miss  Reynolds !  look !"  she  said,  holding  the 
box  towards  her  for  inspection. 

It  was  filled  with  fragrant,  long-stemmed  Jack  roses. 

"How  lovely!  Who  can  the  donor  be?"  she  said. 
"Ah !  there  is  a  card,  tucked  almost  out  of  sight,  under 
the  foliage." 

Katherine  drew  it  forth,  and  a  quick  flush  suffused 
her  face  as  she  read  the  name,  "Phillip  Harris  Stanley." 
She  passed  it  to  her  friend,  then  bent  over  her  box  of 
crimson  beauties,  as  if  to  inhale  their  perfume,  but 
really  to  hide  the  deepening  color  in  her  cheeks. 

Presently  a  bell  rang  and  Miss  Reynolds  was  obliged 
to  go  to  a  class,  thus  leaving  Katherine  alone  with  her 
books  and  her  flowers,  and  in  a  very  happy  frame  of 
mind. 

It  was  nearly  noon  before  Mrs.  Seabrook  could  steal 
away  from  her  duties  to  go  to  see  her;  and  when 
Katherine,  in  response  to  her  knock,  admitted  her,  she 
took  the  girl  into  her  arms  and  kissed  her  with  quiv- 
ering lips,  her  eyes  brimming  with  tears. 

"My  dear  child,  you  know  it  is  simply  impossible 
for  me  to  tell  you  all  there  is  in  my  heart,"  she  began, 
but  her  voice  broke  and  she  had  to  stop  to  maintain 
her  self-control. 


226  KATHERINE'S 

"Do  not  try,  dear  Mrs.  Seabrook,"  said  Katharine, 
as  she  returned  her  caress.  "I  know  it  all,  and  you 
cannot  be  more  thankful  than  I  am  that  Dorothy  es- 
caped without  even  having  her  pleasure  spoiled." 

"She  talks  of  nothing  but  her  'beautiful  time'  and 
your  'bravery/  "  the  mother  resumed.  "She  says  that 
even  though  she  cannot  remember  much  of  what  hap- 
pened, after  you  wrapped  the  portiere  about  the  chair, 
she  did  hear  you  tell  her  'not  to  be  afraid,  for  she  was 
God's  child  and  could  not  be  harmed.'  She  was  not 
harmed  in  any  way ;  she  simply  fainted  from  the  shock, 
and  seems  even  brighter  to-day  than  she  was  yesterday. 
But  you  suffered  for  her,"  and  Mrs.  Seabrook's  trem- 
ulous lips  failed  her  again,  as  she  softly  touched  the 
girl's  bandaged  hand. 

"It  is  almost  nothing  now,"  said  Katherine,  brightly. 
"I  am  fast  forgetting  it  myself,  and  want  everybody 
else  to.  Does  Dorrie  know  ?" 

"No ;  my  brother  thought  it  best  not  to  tell  her." 

"I  am  glad ;  pray  keep  it  from  her  if  possible." 

"But  is  it  not  very  sore?    Are  you  not  suffering?" 

"Not  in  the  least,  I  assure  you.  The  pain  lasted 
only  a  little  while;  I  slept  lovely  and  feel  as  good  as 
new  this  morning." 

"But  your  beautiful  dress  was  ruined,  though  that, 
of  course,  shall  be  replaced;  and  you  lost  your  good 
time  last  night,"  and  the  woman  heaved  a  regretful 
sigh. 

Katherine  laughed  out  merrily. 

"You  will  not  let  me  'forget/  "  she  said.  "But  there 
will  be  plenty  of  other  'good  times/  and  all  else  is  as 
nothing  in  the  balance,  compared  with  Dorothy's 


SHEAVES 

safety."  Then,  to  change  the  subject,  she  inquired: 
"Now,  tell  me,  wasn't  that  last  tableau  about  as  fine 
as  anything  could  be?^^*" 

"It  was  exquisite  beyond  description,"  said  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook,  with  animation.  "Mr.  Seabrook  was  delighted 
with  it,  and  so  pleased  to  have  Dorrie  in  it.  It  was 
lovely  of  the  juniors  to  take  so  much  pains  for  her  and 
make  her  the  central  figure.  The  whole  entertainment 
was  a  great  success;  your  production  was  very  bright 
and  clever,  and  our  guests  from  outside  had  nothing 
but  praise  for  everything.  Oh !  by  the  way,  Miss  Min- 
turn,  my  husband  sends  his  kindest  regards  to  you  by 
me.  He  said  it  was  all  he  could  do  until  he  could  see 
you  personally." 

After  chatting  a  little  longer  she  arose  to  go,  saying 
she  was  expecting  company  to  dine  with  her. 

Then  she  paused  and  again  gently  touched  the  spot- 
less handkerchief  bound  around  Katherine's  hand. 

"My  dear,"  she  observed,  searching  her  face  with 
curious  eyes,  "I  cannot  reconcile  your  bright  and 
happy  appearance  with  this ;  to  me  it  is  a  marvel,  and 
I  wish — oh  !  how  I  wish " 

She  checked  herself  suddenly,  but  Katherine  read  her 
thought. 

"I  know,"  she  said,  softly,  "and  my  heart  has  been 
full  of  the  same  yearning  for  a  long  time.  It  will 
come,  dear  Mrs.  Seabrook,  if  we  keep  on  wishing  and 
praying." 

"If  I  only  knew  how  to  pray  as — as  you  do!"  was 
the  wistful  response. 

"The  Lord's  Prayer  meets  every  human  need, -par- 
ticularly the  clause,  'Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  in 


228  KATHERINE'S 

heaven ;'  only  we  need  to  know  it  was  never  our 
Father's  'will'  that  His  children  should  suffer,"  Kath- 
erine  returned. 

Tears  rushed  to  the  elder  woman's  eyes. 

"I  wish  I  could  understand,"  she  began,  brokenly. 
Then,  bending  forward,  she  left  a  light  kiss  on  the 
girl's  cheek  and  abruptly  left  the  room. 

There  were  tears  in  Katherine's  eyes  also,  but  a 
tender  smile  on  her  lips. 

"Divine  Love  is  preparing  the  soil  for  the  seed,"  she 
murmured  to  herself  as  she  went  back  to  her  essay. 

She  kept  herself  aloof  from  the  other  students  as 
much  as  possible  until  Monday,  when  she  appeared  as 
usual  in  her  classes.  She  had  to  run  the  gantlet  of 
some  inquiries  regarding  the  extent  of  her  injuries, 
but  she  made  light  of  them,  and  her  comrades  began  to 
think  they  must  have  been  greatly  exaggerated,  and 
so  gave  the  matter  no  further  thought. 

Monday  afternoon,  when  the  duties  of  the  day  were 
over,  she  went  to  see  Dorothy,  who  had  sent  her  sev- 
eral pressing  invitations  during  the  last  three  days. 

"I  thought  you  would  never  come,  Miss  Minturn," 
she  exclaimed,  the  moment  the  door  opened  to  admit 
her,  "and  I  have  so  wanted  to  talk  over  that  lovely — 
lovely  time  with  you." 

"I  have  been  pretty  busy,  dear,  since  I  saw  you," 
Katherine  replied,  bending  to  kiss  the  eager  face. 

"I  expect  you  have,  getting  ready  for  exams,  and 
everything,  and  I've  tried  to  be  patient,"  said  the  child, 
with  a  sigh,  as  she  recalled  how  impatient  she  had  felt. 
"Everybody  says  that  was  such  a  beautiful  tableau!" 
she  went  on,  with  shining  eyes,  "and  we  know  it  was, 


SHEAVES  229 

don't  we?  I  shall  never  forget  it;  only,  it  was  too 
bad  to  have  such  a  scare  afterwards  and  my  pretty 
chariot  spoiled.  Wasn't  it  lucky,  though,  that  Uncle 

Phillip  happened  to  come  just  when  he  did  and " 

but  she  was  obliged  to  pause  here  for  breath. 

"Indeed,  it  was  most  fortunate,  and  I  am  sorry  that 
the  chariot  was  spoiled,  for  it  would  have  been  a  pleas- 
ant reminder  of  our  lily  queen's  grandeur  as  long  as 
you  cared  to  preserve  it,"  Katherine  returned. 

"But  that  was  nothing  compared  with  your  dress !" 
was  the  regretful  rejoinder.  "Uncle  Phil  said  the  skirt 
was  ruined ;  but  papa  says  you  shall  have  another  every 
bit  as  nice " 

"Indeed,  you  shall,  Miss  Minturn,"  here  interposed 
Prof.  Seabrook,  coming  from  the  adjoining  room, 
where  he  had  overheard  the  above  conversation. 

He  cordially  extended  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  while 
his  tone  and  manner  were  more  affable  than  they  had 
been  since  the  day  of  her  admission  to  the  school. 

"We  owe  you  a  great  deal,"  he  continued,  "both  for 
the  pleasure  you  were  instrumental  in  giving  our  little 
girl  last  Friday  night,  and  for  your  presence  of  mind 
which  saved — no  one  can  estimate  how  much — pos- 
sibly a  dangerous  panic,  the  destruction  of  property 
and  much  suffering." 

He  had  been  quietly  inspecting  the  hand  he  held, 
while  he  was  speaking,  and  was  greatly  surprised  to 
find  only  a  slight  discoloration  where  he  had  expected 
to  see  unsightly  sores  or  scars,  and,  while  he  did  not 
wish  to  undervalue  her  heroism  and  self-abnegation, 
he  began  to  think  that  his  brother-in-law  had  greatly 
over-estimated  the  injuries  which  she  had  sustained. 


230  KATHERINE'S 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  giving  me  far  more  credit  than 
is  my  due,"  Katherine  replied,  releasing  her  hand  and 
flushing  as  she  read  something  of  what  was  passing  in 
his  mind.  "I  simply  did  what  first  came  to  my  thought 
and " 

"And  exactly  the  right  thing  it  was  to  do,"  the  man 
smilingly  interposed. 

"And  Dr.  Stanley  did  the  rest,"  she  persisted,  finish- 
ing what  had  been  in  her  mind  to  say. 

"Well,  'all's  well  that  ends  well,'  and  we  are  very 
grateful  that  things  are  as  they  are,"  said  the  professor, 
earnestly,  adding: 

"You  must  allow  me  to  repair  whatever  damage  has 
been  done,  as  far  as  money  can  do  that.  It  pains  me 
to  know  that  you  were  burned,  but  I  am  thankful  to 
see  that  you  did  not  suffer  as  severely  as  I  was  led  to 
infer."  He  glanced  at  her  hand  again  as  he  concluded. 

"I  suffered  more  on  Dorothy's  account,  I  think,  than 
in  any  other  way,"  the  girl  quietly  replied. 

"Why!  were  you  burned,  Miss  Minturn?"  Dorothy 
exclaimed,  catching  her  breath  sharply. 

"You  would  hardly  know  it  now,"  she  said,  showing 
her  hand,  for  she  saw  she  could  no  longer  conceal  the 
fact  from  her. 

Dorothy  took  it,  looked  it  over,  then  touched  her  lips 
lovingly  to  it. 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  she  said,  "but  it  couldn't  have 
been  so  awful  bad  to  get  well  so  quickly,  could  it?" 

"It  is  all  passed  now,  dearie,  and  we  are  glad  that 
no  one's  good  time  was  spoiled,  aren't  we?"  Katherine 
observed  and  hastening  to  change  the  subject. 

"Indeed,  we  are.     It  was  such  a  happy  time !"  sighed 


SHEAVES  231 

Dorrie,  in  a  tone  of  supreme  content.  "I've  dreamed 
and  dreamed  of  it.  I  wake  in  the  morning  thinking  of 
it,  and  mamma  and  I  talk  and  talk  about  it." 

"I  wish  to  add,  Miss  Katherine,"  her  principal  here 
interposed,  "that  your  special  contribution  to  the  pro- 
gramme of  last  Friday  evening  was  exceedingly  enter- 
taining; and" — his  eyes  resting  very  kindly  on  her — 
"having  learned  the  circumstances  that  inspired  it,  I 
heartily  appreciate  the  spirit  with  which  you  met  and 
mastered  them.  Now,  Dorrie,  I  will  not  keep  you 
from  your  talk  with  her  any  longer,"  and,  with  a  genial 
smile  and  bow,  the  gentleman  left  the  room. 

Katherine  remained  an  hour  with  Dorothy  and  al- 
lowed her  to  expatiate  upon  her  "good  time"  to  her 
heart's  content,  after  which  she  went  out  into  the 
grounds  for  a  little  quiet  meditation  by  herself. 

She  was  very  happy  because  of  what  Prof.  Seabrook 
had  said  to  her  and  the  marked  change  in  his  manner 
towards  her.  He  had  addressed  her  by  her  first  name, 
too,  for  the  first  time,  a  thing  which  he  never  did  in 
speaking  to  students  in  public ;  but  there  were  a  fa- 
vored few  whom  he  sometimes  greeted  thus  when  he 
chanced  to  meet  them  informally,  and  it  now  seemed 
as  if  she  were  henceforth  to  be  numbered  with  them. 

All  the  same,  she  knew  that,  in  his  heart,  he  was 
not  one  whit  more  tolerant  of  her  religious  views,  and 
the  skeptical  gleam  in  his  eyes,  while  inspecting  her 
hand,  had  told  her  that  he  had  no  faith  whatever  that 
she  had  made  a  "demonstration"  over  a  severe  burn. 
But  it  was  evident  there  had  been  a  radical  change  in 
his  attitude  towards  her;  he  no  longer  entertained  any 
personal  repulsion,  and  thus,  with  the  little  fire  of  Fri- 


232  KATHERINE'S 

1  day  night,  all  "barriers  had  been  burned  away"  and  a 
-£  bond  of  true  sympathy  re-established  between  them. 
So,  with  a  smile  on  her  lips  and  a  song  in  her  heart, 
she  made  her  way  to  a  favorite  spot,  beneath  a  mam- 
moth beech  tree,  where,  drawing  forth  a  pocket  edi- 
tion of  "Unity  of  Good"*,  that  tiny  book,  that  mill  turn 
in  parvo  which,  to  every  earnest  student  of  Christian 
Science,  becomes  a  veritable  casket  of  precious  jewels, 
she  was  soon  lost  to  all  things  material  in  the  perusal 
of  its  pages. 

She  had  been  reading  fifteen  minutes,  perhaps,  when 
a  muffled  step  on  the  heavy  greensward  caused  her  to 
glance  up,  to  find  Dr.  Stanley  almost  beside  her. 

"All  inquiries  regarding  a  certain  lady's  health,  I 
perceive,  are  quite  unnecessary,"  he  observed,  as  he 
searched  her  glowing  face.  "Pray  pardon  me  if  I 
have  startled  you,  but  I  would  like  to  know  how  that 
poor  hand  is  getting  on,  if  it  is  permissible  to  men- 
tion it." 

"It  is  not  a  'poor  hand' — it  is  a  very  good  hand, 
indeed,  thank  you,  Dr.  Stanley;  at  least,  for  all  prac- 
tical purposes,"  she  demurely  returned,  but  keeping  it 
persistently  out  of  sight,  among  the  folds  of  her  dress, 
where  it  had  fallen  when  she  arose  to  greet  him. 

"Miss  Minturn,  aren't  you  going  to  shake  hands  with 
an  old  friend  ?"  he  gi'avely  queried,  extending  his  hand 
to  her,  but  with  a  roguish  sparkle  in  his  handsome 
eyes. 

Katherine  laughed  out  musically,  and  reluctantly  laid 
hers  within  his  palm. 


*By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy. 


SHEAVES  233 

The  man's  face  assumed  an  inscrutable  expression  as 
he  turned  the  small  member  over  and  examined  it  with 
a  critical  look,  even  pushing  up  her  sleeve  a  trifle  to 
view  the  arm ;  but  the  slender  wrist  was  fair  and  white 
and  no  flaw  anywhere,  except  the  slight  discoloration 
previously  referred  to,  where  the  unsightly  blisters  had 
been. 

"Miss  Minturn,  it  is  less  than  three  days  since  that 
accident  occurred,  and  those  burns  are  entirely  healed ! 
What  did  you  do  for  them  ?"  he  demanded,  in  low,  re- 
pressed tones. 

"Nothing,  except  to  know  that  'God  is  an  ever-pres- 
ent help  in  time  of  trouble.'  " 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  applied  no  lotion 
or  salve?  that  you  did  nothing  but  'demonstrate  men- 
tally,' as  you  Scientists  express  it?" 

"That  was  all,  Dr.  Stanley.    I  had  no  lotion  or  salve." 

"How  long  did  you  suffer  from  the  pain  ?  I  suppose 
you  shrink  from  being  questioned  thus  by  a  doctor," 
he  interposed,  as  he  observed  her  heightened  color; 
"but  please  tell  me — I  want  to  know." 

"The  burning  sensation  was  all  gone  at  the  end  of 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  by  the  clock,  though  I  con- 
fess the  time  seemed  much  longer  than  that,"  she  ad- 
mitted, with  a  faint  smile.  "I  was  conscious  that  my 
hand  was  sore  and  very  tender  as  long  as  I  was  awake ; 
but  in  the  morning  that  also  was  a  belief  of  the  past." 

"It  is  beyond  me!"  muttered  the  physician,  with  a 
puzzled  brow.  "But,"  he  added,  frankly,  "I  am  heartily 
glad  you  did  not  have  to  suffer  many  hours,  as  I  felt 
sure  you  would,  after  seeing  the  condition  of  your 
hand  that  night.  I  went  to  your  room  with  my  sister, 


234  KATHERINE'S 

after  attending  to  Dorothy,  but,  as  you  know,  failed 
to  find  you.  An  hour  later  Miss  Reynolds  astounded 
me  by  telling  me  that  you  were  in  her  room,  asleep." 

"Yes,  she  kindly  took  me  under  the  shelter  of  her 
wing." 

"Miss  Minturn" — accusingly — "you  ran  away  from 
me;  you  did  not  want  me  to  find  you;"  but  he  smiled 
as  he  said  it. 

"It  was  far  better  for  me,  with  our  conflicting  opin- 
ions. It  would  only  have  prolonged  my  suffering  if  you 
had  found  me  and  insisted  upon  dressing  the  burns, 
even  though  your  motive  was  most  kind,"  Katherine 
gently  explained. 

"I  am  almost  tempted  to  believe  that,  after  what  I 
have  heard  and  seen,"  he  thoughtfully  admitted. 

"I  hope  you  do  not  feel  that  I  did  not  appreciate 
your  kindness,"  Katherine  observed,  a  note  of  appeal  in 
her  voice.  "I  know  that  you  would  have  done  your 
best  for  me,  in  your  way.  And  now,  let  me  thank  you 
again  for  the  lovely  Jacks.  I  have  not  seen  such  beau- 
ties for  a  long  time.  I  hope  you  received  my  note  of 
acknowledgment." 

"Yes,  and  wondered  how  you  had  managed  to  hold 
a  pen,  much  more  write  your  natural  hand." 

For  a  moment  Katherine  wondered  how  he  could 
know  her  "natural  hand" ;  then  she  remembered  that  he 
had  asked  an  exchange  of  cards  from  herself  and  her 
mother  the  day  before  they  landed  the  previous  fall. 
She  had  just  given  her  last  one  away,  so  had  been 
obliged  to  write  her  name  and  address  on  a  blank  card. 

"What  is  this  little  book,  in  which  you  were  so  ab- 
sorbed as  I  came  upon  you  ?"  he  resumed,  as  he  picked 


SHEAVES  235 

it  up  from  the  seat  where  she  had  laid  it  and  turned 
to  the  title  page.  "U-m !  another  production  by  that 
remarkable  woman !  Do  you  understand  it  ?" 

"I  am  growing  to  understand  it  better  every  time  I 
read  it.  There  is  much  that  is  beautiful  and  helpful 
in  it." 

"Well,  one  would  need  to  read  over  and  over  to 
comprehend  what  she  teaches,  and" — reflectively — "I 
am  not  sure  but  what  it  would  be  well  worth  one's 
while.  But  I  must  go.  Dorrie  will  think  I  am  very 
late  this  afternoon.  An  revoir,  Miss  Minturn,"  and 
slipping  the  book  into  Katherine's  hands,  he  lifted  his 
hat  and  went  his  way,  while  she  looked  after  him  with 
shining  eyes. 

"Mamma  sowed  better  than  she  knew,  there;  the 
soil  is  good  and  the  seed  is  taking  root,"  she  told  her- 
self as  she  turned  with  a  light  heart  back  to  her  book. 


236  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Sadie  Receives  An  Opportune  Invitation. 

The  last  weeks  of  the  school  year  just  seemed  to 
melt  away  until  only  one  remained,  and  this  was  filled 
full  with  many  duties,  various  class  meetings,  prepara- 
tions for  graduating  day,  class  receptions,  etc. 

For  some  time  Katherine  had  observed  that  Sadie  ap- 
peared absent-minded  and  depressed;  in  fact,  wholly 
unlike  herself,  and  twice  of  late  she  had  surprised  her 
in  violent  weeping.  But  the  girl  would  give  no  rea- 
son, made  light  of  it  as  "nervousness,"  and  evaded  all 
questions. 

One  day,  while  looking  over  their  personal  belong- 
ings and  packing  away  things  no  longer  needed,  pre- 
paratory to  their  flitting,  Katherine  abruptly  inquired: 

"Sadie,  where  are  you  going  to  spend  your  sum- 
mer?" 

The  girl  started  violently  and  turned  a  vivid  scarlet. 

"I — I  don't  know,  honey.  I  reckon  I  may  travel 
some,"  she  said,  after  a  moment  of  hesitation. 

"With  your  guardian  and  his  family?" 

"N-o;  they're  going  to  Europe,  but  I  don't  care  to 
go  with  them." 

"But  you  surely  cannot  travel  by  yourself,"  Kath- 
erine observed,  in  surprise,  while  she  regarded  the 


SHEAVES  237 

averted  face  opposite  her  curiously,  an  unaccountable 
feeling  of  uneasiness  taking  possession  of  her. 

"I — I  suppose  I  can't ;  perhaps  I  shan't,  after  all," 
Sadie  stammered.  "I  may  go  to  some  quiet  place  and 
board." 

"Even  in  that  case  you  would  need  a  chaperon," 
Katherine  objected. 

"Well,  Mr.  Farnsworth  wants  me  to  go  to  his  sister 
in  Genesee  County.  She's  a  stiff,  little  old  maid  who 
lives  by  herself,  and  he  says  if  I  will  not  go  to  Europe 
I  must  stay  with  her.  But  I  might  as  well  be  shut  up 
in  a  convent,  and — I  won't,"  and  there  was  a  resonant 
note  of  defiance  in  Miss  Minot's  voice  as  she  con- 
cluded. 

"But  what  is  your  objection  to  the  European  trip, 
Sadie?  I  should  think  you  would  like  it;  I  am  sure 
you  could  have  no  better  opportunity  than  to  go  with 
the  Farnsworths,"  argued  Katherine,  who  was  more 
and  more  perplexed  by  her  roommate's  strange  caprice. 

"Oh !  well,  I'm  not  going,  anyway,  and  that  settles 
the  matter !"  sharply  retorted  the  girl  from  the  depths 
of  her  trunk,  but  her  voice  was  thick  with  tears. 

Katherine  suddenly  sat  erect,  a  startled  expression 
sweeping  over  her  face.  She  dropped  the  subject,  but 
before  an  hour  had  passed  a  hastily  written,  special 
delivery  missive  was  on  its  way  to  Mrs.  Minturn. 

The  next  evening,  after  supper,  she  burst  into  her 
room,  her  face  beaming  with  joy,  an  open  letter  in  her 
hand,  to  find  Sadie  drooping  over  a  note  she  had  been 
writing  and  nibbling  at  the  stem  of  her  pen,  apparently 
in  the  most  disconsolate  frame  of  mind. 

She  hastily  drew  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  over  the 


238 


KATHERINE'S 


written  page  to  hide  it,  a  circumstance  which  did  not 
escape  the  observing  eye  of  her  chum,  and,  looking 
over  her  shoulder,  inquired: 

"What  is  it,  Katherine?  You  look  as  if  you'd  had 
good  news." 

"I  have — at  least  good  news  to  me,  and  I  hope  it  will 
be  to  you  also,"  was  the  cheery  reply. 

Sadie  sat  up  and  looked  interested. 

"To  me!    How  so?"  she  said,  in  surprise. 

"Well,  I  wrote  mamma  yesterday  that  you  seemed 
to  be  in  something  of  a  quandary  about  your  summer, 
and  as  I  have  the  privilege  of  inviting  some  one  to 
spend  my  vacation  with  me,  I  asked  her  if  I  might 
have  you — that  is,  if  you  would  like  to  come.  Would 
you,  dear?"  Katherine  pleaded,  with  an  anxiously  beat- 
ing heart.  "We  have  a  cottage  at  Manchester-by-the- 
Sea,  in  Massachusetts,  which  we  make  our  headquar- 
ters, then  take  little  trips  here  and  there,  as  the  spirit 
moves  us.  Papa  cannot  be  with  us  all  the  time,  on 
account  of  business,  but  he  comes  and  goes,  bringing 
some  of  his  friends  now  and  then;  and,  Sadie,  we  do 
have  very  nice  times.  Now  will  you  be  my  guest  for 
the  summer?  I  have  a  special  delivery  from  mamma, 
who  also  wants  you." 

The  girl  had  remained  motionless,  almost  breathless 
while  Katherine  was  speaking,  a  peculiar  look  on  her 
face,  which  grew  red  and  white  by  turns.  She  did  not 
at  once  reply  when  she  concluded,  but  seemed  irres- 
olute, almost  dazed,  in  fact,  by  what  she  had  heard. 

Then,  all  at  once,  she  started  to  her  feet,  threw  her 
arms  around  Katherine,  bowed  her  head  upon  her 
shoulder  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 


'•Threw   her    arms  around    Katherine,    bowed    her  head  upon    her 
shoulder  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears."  (See  page  238) 


SHEAVES  239 

"Oh !  how  good  of  you,  Katherine !  How  good  of 
you !  It  will  seem  like  heaven  to  me !"  she  sobbed,  with 
more  feeling  than  she  had  ever  manifested  before  dur- 
ing all  the  months  they  had  spent  together.  "Ah!  I 
have  been  so  lonesome,  so  homesick,  so — so  wretched, 
and  I  would  love  to  go  if — if  you  really  want  me." 

"I  certainly  do,  Sadie,  or  I  would  not  have  asked 
you,"  Katherine  heartily  responded,  and  now  feeling 
very  sure  that  she  had  done  a  wise  thing,  for  she  was 
convinced  that  the  girl's  "wretchedness"  had  proceeded 
from  an  entirely  different  cause  than  a  choice  between 
a  European  tour  and  a  sojourn  with  an  "old  maid  in 
Genesee  County." 

"It  is  perfectly  lovely  of  you,  and  I  can  never  tell 
you  how  much  it  means  to  me !"  Sadie  replied,  with  a 
long  breath  of  relief,  while  she  wiped  the  hot  tears 
from  her  cheeks. 

"Well,  you  need  not  be  'homesick'  any  longer,"  was 
the  cheery  assurance,  "for  mamma  will  make  you  feel 
that  you  have  your  own  place  in  our  dear  home  nest  on 
the  rocks  by  the  sea;  and  papa  is  the  jolliest  of  men. 
No  one  need  be  'lonesome'  when  he  is  around,  and  we 
shall  have  other  friends  with  us  some  of  the  time. 
Listen  while  I  read  you  what  mamma  says:  'Have 
your  friend  come,  by  all  means,  if  she  thinks  she  can 
be  happy  with  us.  You  can  explain  what  our  plans 
are,  and  if  they  prove  attractive  we  will  make  her  one 
with  us.' " 

"That  will  be  perfectly  delightful !  It  is  awfully 
sweet  of  you  both,"  Sadie  exclaimed,  with  sparkling 
eyes,  her  spirits  quickly  rebounding,  as  the  burden  of 
a  few  hours  previous  began  to  roll  from  her  heart. 


240  KATHERINE'S 

"Oh !  Katharine,  you  never  can  know  how  happy  you 
have  made  me,  and  I  am  going  to  write  to  my  guardian 
this  very  minute." 

She  turned  back  to  her  desk,  and  presently  Katherine 
heard  her  tearing  paper  into  tiny  bits,  after  which  she 
wrote  two  letters  and  then  went  immediately  out  to 
post  them. 

There  were  no  more  tears  or  doleful  looks  during  the 
remainder  of  the  week.  A  day  or  two  later  there  came 
an  approving  letter  and  a  generous  check  from  Mr. 
Farnsworth,  and  Sadie  was  once  more  her  serene  and 
gracious  self  and  looking  forward  eagerly  to  the  day 
of  their  flitting  to  the  sea.  -^ 

Katherine,  on  the  other  hand,  was  feeling  an  unac- 
countable reluctance  to  leaving,  even  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  returning  in  September,  and  in  spite  of  her 
longing  for  both  father  and  mother.  It  was  very 
strange,  she  told  herself,  but  she  certainly  was  not 
elated  over  the  prospect  of  a  long  vacation. 

Prof.  Seabrook  was  going  to  Europe  for  a  complete 
change  of  scene  and  rest.  Mrs.  Seabrook,  Dorothy 
and  nurse  were  booked  for  a  quiet  spot  in  the  White 
Mountains,  where,  it  was  hoped,  pure  air  and  country 
life  and  diet  would  strengthen  the  frail  girl  for  what 
was  in  store  for  her,  and  where  Dr.  Stanley  would  join 
them,  for  the  month  of  August,  if  he  could  arrange 
to  leave  his  patients. 

Miss  Reynolds  was  to  go  to  her  home  in  Auburn  for 
July,  but,  to  Katherine's  delight,  had  accepted  an  in- 
vitation from  Mrs.  Minturn  to  be  her  guest  during  the 
first  two  weeks  of  August. 

And  so,  when  the  morning  of  their  departure  came, 


SHEAVES  241 

adieus  and  good  wishes  were  exchanged  with  their 
many  school  friends,  and  the  two  girls  started  upon 
their  journey  to  the  coast  of  the  "good  old  Bay  State" 
and  lovely  Manchester,  that  beautiful  town  so  boldly 
perched  on  rugged  crags  and  nestling  so  restfully  'mid 
sylvan  shadows. 

There  was  a  secYet  sense  of  disappointment  in  Kath- 
erine's  heart  because  she  had  not  seen  Dr.  Stanley  dur- 
ing these  last  days.  He  had  been  unusually  busy  for 
a  month,  and  she  had  not  met  him  since  the  afternoon 
of  their  brief  interview  under  the  great  beech  tree ;  but 
when  she  went  to  say  farewell  to  Mrs.  Seabrook  she 
left  a  friendly  message  and  good-by  for  him. 

Dorothy  wept  when  taking  leave  of  her,  and  Mrs. 
Seabrook  clung  fondly  to  her. 

"I  am  very  loath  to  let  you  go,"  she  said,  "for  there 
have  been  many  peaceful  hours  in  this  room  when  you 
have  been  with  us,  and  I  shall  count  the  weeks  until 
we  are  all  back  again.  Somehow,  I  am  dreading  my 
summer,"  she  concluded,  with  a  weary  sigh. 

It  was  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the  young 
travelers  reached  Boston,  where  they  were  met  by  Mr. 
Minturn,  an  unusually  prepossessing  gentleman,  who 
evidently  was  very  fond  of  "my  girlie,"  as  he  called 
Katherine  when  he  gathered  her  into  his  strong  arms 
and  held  close  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  greeted  Sadie  with  a  breezy  cordiality 
which,  for  once,  disabused  her  of  the  notion  that 
Northerners  were  "stiff  and  cold"  and  Southern  hos- 
pitality at  a  premium. 

They  had  just  time  to  get  their  trunks  rechecked 
and  catch  a  suburban  train,  and  about  an  hour  later, 


242  KATHERINE'S 

seated  behind  a  pair  of  spirited  bays,  they  were  rolling 
over  a  smooth  country  road  and  ere  long  drew  up  be- 
neath the  porte  cochere  of  a  fine  residence  built  on  a 
rocky  bluff  and  overlooking  a  broad  expanse  of  ocean. 

"So  this  is  a  'cottage  by  the  sea,'  a  'nest  on  the 
rocks/  "  Miss  Minot  mentally  observed  to  herself  as 
her  glance  roamed  over  the  roomy  mansion,  while  she 
was  mounting  the  steps  leading  to  the  wide  veranda, 
where  Mrs.  Minturn  and  another  lady,  both  in  dinner 
costumes,  were  waiting  to  welcome  them.  Katherine 
flew  to  her  mother's  arms,  while  Mr.  Minturn  pre- 
sented Sadie  to  Mrs.  Evarts;  then,  presently,  Mrs. 
Minturn  came  to  her,  greeting  her  so  graciously  and 
lovingly  that  her  heart  was  won  at  once,  and  she  felt 
that  she  had  been  admitted  within  a  charmed  circle 
and  a  strangely  peaceful  atmosphere. 

"Now,  my  dears,  I  am  not  going  to  make  you  dress 
to-night,"  Mrs.  Minturn  observed,  when  the  greetings 
were  over.  "Ellen" — glancing  at  a  maid  in  spotless 
cap  and  apron — "will  take  you  upstairs  and  help  you 
get  rid  of  some  of  the  dust  of  travel,  then  you  can 
come  directly  down,  for  we  were  only  awaiting  your 
arrival  before  having  dinner  served." 

The  maid  took  possession  of  their  hand  bags  and  led 
the  way  indoors,  up  a  broad  stairway  to  two  adjoining 
rooms,  opening  out  upon  a  balcony  which  commanded 
a  fine  view  of  both  land  and  sea.  After  submitting  to 
a  vigorous  brushing,  bathing  hands  and  faces  and  pin- 
ning into  place  some  truant  locks,  they  went  below  to 
a  tempting  repast,  to  which  the  two  hungry  travelers 
did  ample  justice. 

The  weeks  that  followed  Sadie  Minot  never  forgot, 


SHEAVES  243 

for  they  marked  the  beginning  of  a  new  era  in  her  life. 
She  seemed  to  be  living  in  a  different  world.  Every 
day  was  begun  with  a  reading  from  the  Bible  and  the 
Christian  Science  text-book ;  this  was  followed  by  the 
singing  of  a  lovely  hymn,  then  came  a  minute  or  two 
of  silent  communion,  after  which  the  Lord's  Prayer 
was  repeated  in  unison. 

Ofttimes  Mrs.  Minturn  and  her  friend  would  re- 
main to  discuss  or  go  over  again  some  passage  that  had 
awakened  a  new  train  of  thought,  and  frequently  Sadie 
found  herself  lingering  also,  an  interested  listener. 

After  a  week  of  rest  they  began  to  make  trips  to 
various  points  of  interest,  sometimes  stopping  two  or 
three  days  in  a  place,  then  returning  to  Manchester 
for  a  little  season  of  quiet,  when  they  would  flit  away 
again  in  another  direction. 

It  was  ideal.  There  was  never  any  friction  or  jar 
in  the  home  or  on  the  wing;  an  atmosphere  of  peace 
and  love  brooded  everywhere,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
a  spirit  of  good-fellowship  and  jollity  pervaded  the  en- 
tire household,  particularly  when  Mr.  Minturn  made 
one  of  their  number. 

Katherine,  who  was  quietly  observant  of  her  friend, 
was  glad  to  see  that  there  was  no  return  of  the  absent- 
minded  moods  or  depression  that  had  previously  over- 
shadowed her;  but  that  she  seemed  care-free  and 
happy,  giving  herself  up  heartily  to  the  enjoyment  of 
her  vacation. 

Only  now  and  then,  when  a  letter  addressed  in  a 
bold,  free  hand  came  to  her,  did  she  seem  to  cast  a 
backward  glance  or  recall  anything  to  mar  her  pleasure. 

They  had  little  visits  at  Newport  and  Narragansett 


244  KATHERINE'S 

Pier,  a  trip  to  the  Thousand  Isles,  interspersed  with 
outings  at  the  Essex  County  Club  at  home ;  golf,  ten- 
nis and  drives,  and,  now  and  then,  a  run  to  Boston 
for  sightseeing  or  shopping. 

One  morning— the  very  last  of  July — Katherine  re- 
ceived a  letter  bearing  a  New  Hampshire  postmark. 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  from  Mrs.  Seabrook !  I  have 
been  wishing  we  might  hear  from  Dorothy,"  she  ob- 
served, as  she  hastily  cut  the  end  of  the  envelope  and 
drew  forth  a  closely  written  sheet.  "Yes,  it  is,"  she 
supplemented,  glancing  at  the  name  appended,  and  then 
became  absorbed  in  its  contents,  her  face  growing  grave 
and  wistful  as  she  read. 

"Mamma,"  she  remarked,  when  she  had  finished  and 
was  refolding  the  missive,  "Mrs.  Seabrook  writes  that 
Dorothy  is  not  as  well.  They  have  had  to  send  for  Dr. 
Stanley,  and  he  thinks  that  the  mountain  air  does  not 
agree  with  her ;  that  she  would  be  better  near  the  sea. 
She  has  written  to  ask  if  we  know  of  a  cottage  here 
that  she  could  rent  for  the  remainder  of  the  season." 

"Why,  yes;  there  is  the  Hunt  cottage.  Mrs.  Hunt 
told  me  yesterday  that  they  are  all  going  on  a  trip 
through  the  Canadas ;  but  she  was  in  a  quandary  about 
her  help.  She  does  not  like  to  let  them  go,  neither 
does  she  feel  quite  like  leaving  them  to  run  the  house 
by  themselves.  Perhaps  she  would  be  glad  to  rent 
it,"  Mrs.  Minturn  returned. 

"That  would  be  delightful,  for  then  we  could  have 
Mrs.  Seabrook  for  a  neighbor,  and — oh  !  mamma — if 
we  only  could  do  something  for  that  dear  child,"  said 
Katherine,  yearningly. 

"We  could  not  interfere  there,  dear,"  her  mother 


SHEAVES  245 

gravely  replied.  "We  could  do  nothing,  with  Prof. 
Seabrook  so  opposed  to  the  treatment  of  Christian 
Science.  But  I  will  go  and  talk  with  Mrs.  Hunt  and 
see  what  can  be  done  for  your  friends." 

The  result  of  her  call  was  a  cordial  assent  on  the 
part  of  the  Hunts  to  rent  the  cottage,  if  the  Seabrooks, 
after  learning  the  terms,  desired  to  have  it. 

Katherine  wrote  by  return  mail,  stating  the  case  to 
Mrs.  Seabrook,  and  the  second  day  afterward,  while 
she  and  Sadie  were  busy  with  some  fancy  work  on  the 
veranda,  Dr.  Stanley  suddenly  appeared,  mounting  the 
steps. 

Katherine  sprang  forward  to  greet  him,  her  face 
glowing  with  pleasure. 

"This  is  a  delightful  surprise,  Dr.  Stanley,"  she  said, 
giving  him  a  cordial  hand.  "Come  and  have  a  chair. 
If  you  have  walked  from  the  station  you  will  be  glad 
to  get  out  of  the  sun,  and  I  am  sure  you  need  no  in- 
troduction to  Miss  Minot." 

The  physician  saluted  Sadie  with  his  customary 
courtesy,  then  seated  himself  in  the  comfortable  rocker 
tendered  him,  and  gazed,  with  an  appreciative  eye,  off 
upon  the  blue  expanse  before  him,  at  the  same  time 
taking  in  deep  breaths  of  the  cool,  delicious  salt  air. 

"This  is  glorious!"  he  exclaimed.  "Young  ladies,  I 
do  not  wonder  at  the  roses  in  your  cheeks,  in  view  of 
these  invigorating  breezes  wafted  straight  from  the 
domain  of  old  Neptune." 

Sadie,  however,  did  marvel  as  she  observed  the  un- 
usual color  in  the  face  of  her  friend.  "The  invigorat- 
ing breezes  of  'Old  Neptune'  didn't  have  anything  to 
do  with  that,"  she  said  to  herself. 


246  KATHERINE'S 

"We  have  found  it  very  warm  and  close  up  in  the 
mountains,"  the  gentleman  resumed,  "and  I  now  re- 
gret that  I  did  not  send  my  sister  to  the  sea  at  the 
beginning  of  the  summer." 

Katherine  inquired  for  Mrs.  Seabrook,  who  had 
scarcely  referred  to  herself  in  her  letter,  and  expressed 
her  regret  that  Dorrie  had  seemed  to  lose  ground. 

"Yes,  she  has  been  very  poorly,  and  her  mother  is 
simply  worn  out  with  anxiety  and  watching,"  said 
Phillip  Stanley,  with  a  clouded  brow.  "You  perceive 
I  lost  no  time,  after  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  in  com- 
ing to  conclude  the  arrangements  with  Mrs.  Hunt." 

"You  will  find  her  cottage  very  comfortable  and 
homelike,  although  it  is  not  very  large,"  Katherine  in- 
formed him.  "We  think  it  is  just  the  place  for  you, 
because  of  the  well-trained  help,  which  will  greatly 
relieve  dear  Mrs.  Seabrook.  That  is  the  house — the 
second  one  above  us  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street." 

"The  location  is  certainly  fine.  It  is  high,  has  a  good 
view  of  the  ocean  and  spacious  grounds.  I  shall  feel 
that  we  are  very  fortunate  to  secure  it.  I  wonder  if  I 
shall  find  Mrs.  Hunt  at  home?"  said  the  gentleman, 
and  apparently  eager  to  conclude  the  bargain. 

"I  think  so,  and,  if  agreeable  to  you,  Dr.  Stanley,  I 
will  go  over  with  and  introduce  you  to  her,"  returned 
his  young  hostess. 

"That  is  very  good  of  you,  Miss  Minturn,"  he 
eagerly  responded,  with  a  look  that  caused  the  white 
lids  to  droop  quickly  over  the  brown  eyes.  "I  shall 
certainly  avail  myself  of  your  kind  offer." 

"I  am  sorry  that  mamma  is  not  at  home,"  Katherine 
remarked,  as  she  arose  to  go  in  and  make  ready  for 


SHEAVES  247 

the  proposed  call.  "She  will  be  disappointed  to  have 
missed  you.  She  was  obliged  to  go  to  Boston  this 
morning,  with  Miss  Reynolds,  who  arrived  last  night, 
and  will  not  be  back  until  late  this  evening.  Sadie, 
will  you  come  with  us  to  Mrs.  Hunt's?"  she  concluded, 
turning  to  her  friend. 

"No,  I  reckon  not,"  the  girl  lazily  replied.  "I  am 
too  comfortable  to  move,  unless  the  occasion  is  im- 
perative." 

Katherine  disappeared,  but  shortly  returned  equipped 
for  her  call,  and  Phillip  Stanley's  glance  rested  appre- 
ciatively on  the  lithe,  graceful  figure  in  its  dainty  robe 
of  pale  yellow  chambrey,  with  its  soft  garnishings  of 
lace  and  black  velvet.  The  nut-brown  head  was 
crowned  with  a  pretty  shade  hat  of  yellow  straw,  also 
trimmed  with  black  velvet  ribbon,  and  a  white  parasol, 
surmounted  by  a  great,  gleaming  white  satin  bow, 
completed  the  effective  costume,  while  the  girl's  pink 
cheeks  and  brilliant  eyes  told,  as  she  walked  away 
with  her  companion,  that  she  was  bound  upon  no  un- 
pleasant errand. 

"U-m!"  ejaculated  Sadie,  with  a  wise  nod,  as  she 
looked  after  the  vanishing  couple,  "you  two  will  make 
a  perfectly  stunning  pair  and — you  have  my  unqualified 
blessing." 

The  arrangements  with  Mrs.  Hunt  were  soon  com- 
pleted, for  Dr.  Stanley  was  only  too  eager  to  secure 
her  charming  cottage  upon  any  terms. 

When  he  spoke  of  references  the  lady  cut  him  short 
by  smilingly  remarking  that  she  needed  no  better 
vouchers  than  her  friends,  the  Minturns.  The  family 
would  leave  the  next  morning,  she  said,  and  it  would 


248  KATHERINE'S 

be  perfectly  agreeable,  as  far  as  she  was  concerned,  to 
have  Mrs.  Seabrook  take  possession  the  following  day, 
and  it  was  so  arranged.  "^" 

As  they  left  the  house  Dr.  Stanley  glanced  at  his 
watch,  then  drew  forth  a  time-table. 

"I  have  an  hour  or  so  before  I  need  to  leave  for 
Boston,"  he  observed,  after  studying  it  for  a  moment. 

"Oh !  Dr.  Stanley,  do  not  say  that !"  Katherine  ex- 
claimed, in  a  tone  of  disappointment.  "You  surely  will 
come  and  have  lunch  with  Sadie  and  me,  then  I  will 
order  the  horses  and  we  will  have  a  nice  drive." 

"You  tempt  me  sorely,  Miss  Minturn,"  the  gentleman 
smilingly  observed,  as  he  met  the  appealing  brown 
eyes,  "but  if  I  am  to  bring  my  sister  and  Dorrie  here 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  I  must  get  back  to  them  to- 
night." 

"Yes,  I  can  understand  that  you  wish  them  to  come 
as  soon  as  possible,"  Katherine  replied,  and  at  once 
yielding  her  point;  "and  you  all  shall  have  plenty  of 
drives  before  the  summer  is  over.  But,  if  you  have 
an  hour  to  spare,  perhaps  you  would  like  to  walk  about 
a  little ;  I  can  show  you  one  or  two  fine  views." 

"That  will  be  very  enjoyable,"  he  eagerly  responded, 
and  they  bent  their  steps  towards  a  point  which  had 
become  a  favorite  spot  with  Katherine. 

They  had  a  pleasant  ramble,  talking  of  various  mat- 
ters, but  without  once  referring  to  the  subject  of  Chris- 
tian Science,  for  Katherine  purposely  avoided  it  for 
several  reasons. 

Finally  they  turned  their  faces  towards  the  town, 
when,  on  rounding  a  curve  in  the  road,  they  saw  the 
figure  of  a  man  sauntering  idly  along  some  distance 


SHEAVES  249 

before  them,  although,  at  the  time,  neither  bestowed 
more  than  a  casual  glance  upon  him. 

Presently,  however,  after  again  consulting  his  watch, 
Dr.  Stanley  said  time  was  flying,  and  he  must  hasten 
to  catch  his  train ;  so,  quickening  their  steps,  they  soon 
overtook  the  stranger  in  front  of  them. 

He  shot  a  curious  look  at  them,  as  they  were  passing ; 
then,  to  Katherine's  amazement,  doffed  his  hat  with  a 
courteous  "How  do  you  do,  Miss  Minturn  ?  Ah !  Stan- 
ley !  a  fine  day." 

Without  slackening  his  pace,  the  physician  turned  a 
pair  of  blazing  eyes  upon  the  man,  as  he,  in  duty 
bound,  lifted  his  own  hat ;  and  they  had  passed  him  be- 
fore Katherine  could  do  more  than  bestow  an  aston- 
ished look  upon  him. 

Her  companion  turned  and  searched  the  puzzled  face 
beside  him. 

"Miss  Minturn,  do  you  know  that  young  man?"  he 
gravely  inquired. 

She  flashed  a  pair  of  startled  eyes  up  at  him,  for  his 
tone  had  a  peculiar  note  in  it. 

"I  don't  know.  There  was  something  familiar  about 
him,  and  he  seemed  to  recognize  me,"  she  began,  doubt- 
fully. "Why!"  she  went  on,  her  face  clearing,  "I  re- 
member now.  I  was  introduced  to  him  last  spring; 
his  name  is  Willard,  I  believe.  Oh !  what  does  he 
want  down  here  ?"  she  concluded,  with  a  sudden  heart- 
throb of  fear. 

"I  do  not  know  who  may  have  introduced  you,"  her 
companion  remarked,  "but  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  tell 
you  that  he  is  a  man  whose  acquaintance  is  very  unde- 
sirable. It  is  true  he  belongs  to  a  fine  family,  but  he 


250  KATHERINE'S 

is  their  thorn  in  the  flesh.  He  is  a  drunkard  and  a 
gambler,  and  his  associates  are  among  the  most  repro- 
bate. Two  or  three  times  I  have  been  called  to  bring 
him  out  of  a  state  bordering  upon  delirium  tremens. 
A  physician  is  not  supposed  to  give  away  the  weak- 
nesses of  his  patients,"  he  interposed,  in  a  deprecatory 
tone,  "but  under  existing  circumstances  I  feel  justified 
in  saying  what  I  have  said." 

"I  had  a  suspicion  that  he  might  not  be  desirable," 
Katherine  returned,  and  feeling  deeply  disturbed,  for 
she  was  sure  the  man  had  followed  Sadie  for  no  good 
purpose.  "I  never  met  him  but  once,  and  then  under 
rather  peculiar  circumstances.  I  thank  you  for  telling 
me  about  him,  for,  although  I  may  never  see  him 
again,  it  may  prove  a  warning  to  some  one  whom  I 
know  who  has  seen  more  of  him." 

They  had  almost  reached  the  station  by  this  time, 
and  a  warning  whistle  told  them  that  the  inward-bound 
train  was  near  at  hand. 

There  was  just  time  for  Dr.  Stanley  to  get  his  ticket, 
take  a  hurried  leave  of  his  fair  companion,  and  then 
board  his  car,  waving  a  last  adieu. 

The  girl  stood  watching  the  train  as  it  rolled  from 
the  station,  a  soft  radiance  in  her  large  brown  eyes,  a 
happy  smile  parting  her  red  lips;  while  the  physician 
bore  away  with  him  the  mental  picture  of  a  dainty 
little  lady  in  pale  yellow,  her  beautiful  face  looking 
out  at  him  from  beneath  a  most  becoming  shade  hat, 
one  slender  hand  holding  aloft  a  white  ruffled  parasol 
surmounted  by  a  gleaming  satin  bow. 


SHEAVES  251 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Mrs.  Seabrook  'Takes  a  Stand. 

On  her  way  back,  after  Dr.  Stanley's  departure, 
Katherine  stopped  at  the  house  of  a  friend  to  make  a 
call. 

She  found  her  in  a  pavilion  that  flanked  a  corner  of 
the  veranda,  and  with  her  some  other  young  people,  all 
of  whom  were  busily  engaged  with  the  new  fad  of 
basket  making.  They  were  just  on  the  point  of  hav- 
ing light  refreshments  and  heartily  welcomed  her  to 
their  circle,  where  the  time  slipped  unheeded  by  until 
a  clock,  somewhere,  striking  the  half  hour  after  twelve, 
warned  her  that  lunch  at  home  would  soon  be  served, 
and  Sadie,  even  now,  must  be  wondering  what  had 
become  of  her. 

But  when  she  reached  home  the  girl  was  nowhere  to 
be  found.  It  was  after  one  o'clock  and  lunch  waiting 
when  she  finally  came  slowly  up  the  hill,  which  sloped 
to  the  beach  behind  the  house,  and  Katherine  was  sure, 
from  her  flushed  cheeks  and  reddened  lids,  that  she 
had  been  crying. 

There  was  no  opportunity  for  any  confidential  con- 
versation during  the  meal,  for  the  waitress  was  in  the 
room,  and,  after  making  a  very  light  repast,  Sadie  ob- 
served she  "reckoned  she'd  go  take  a  nap,"  and  abruptly 
leaving  the  table,  disappeared. 


252  KATHERINE'S 

Katherine  was  deeply  thoughtful  while  finishing  her 
lunch.  "He  has  been  here,"  she  said  to  herself  as  she 
folded  and  slipped  her  napkin  into  its  ring;  then,  with 
a  resolute  uplifting  of  her  head,  she  followed  Sadie 
upstairs  and  tapped  upon  her  door.  "Please  excuse 
me  for  a  little  while,  honey,"  came  the  response  from 
within,  but  in  unnatural  tones. 

"But,  Sadie,  I  am  sure  that  something  is  troubling 
you ;  and,  besides,  I  have  an  item  of  important  news  to 
tell  you,"  her  friend  persisted. 

"Well,  then,  come,"  was  the  reluctant  reply,  and 
Katherine  entered,  to  find  the  girl,  as  she  had  sur- 
mised, in  tears. 

"I  knew  it,  dear,"  she  said,  going  to  her  side.  "I 
was  sure  you  were  grieving  about  something,  and  I 
believe  that  Ned  Willard  is  the  cause  of  it.  I  saw  him 
this  morning  when  I  was  out  with  Dr.  Stanley." 

"You  did !  He  didn't  say  that  he  had  seen  you," 
exclaimed  Sadie,  in  astonishment.  Then,  realizing 
how  she  had  committed  herself,  she  colored  a  vivid 
scarlet  and  fell  to  weeping  afresh. 

"Ah!  then  he  has  been  here!"  said  Katherine.  "I 
thought  so,  when  you  came  in  to  lunch."  There  was 
a  moment  of  awkward  silence,  then  she  resumed : 
"Sadie,  I  do  not  wish  to  force  your  confidence,  but  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  frankly  what  is  on  my  mind,  and 
I  hope  you  will  feel  it  is  only  my  friendship  for  you 
that  impels  me  to  say  it.  I  noticed,  for  a  long  time  be- 
fore school  closed,  that  you  were  not  yourself,  that  you 
were  depressed  and  unhappy,  and  I  was  confident  that 
Mr.  Willard  was  the  cause  of  it;  that  it  was  on  his 
account  you  refused  to  go  to  Europe  with  your  guar- 


SHEAVES  253 

dian.  It  even  seemed  to  me  that  you  were  almost  on 
the  point  of  taking  some  step,  doing  something  rash, 
from  which  you  instinctively  shrank,  and  when  I  asked 
you  to  come  home  with  me  you  seized  the  opportunity 
as  a  loophole  of  escape.  Of  course,  I  have  not  been 
blind  and  I  have  suspected  that  certain  letters  which 
have  come  to  you  here  were  from  Mr.  Willard,  and 
when  I  saw  him  to-day  I  feared  he  had  followed  you 
and  would  make  you  'wretched'  again.  I  did  not 
know  him  at  first,  but  he  recognized  me  and  spoke  to 
me." 

She  paused  irresolute  for  a  moment,  then  con- 
tinued : 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  all,  Sadie,  for  I  know  it  is 
right  you  should  learn  the  truth.  Dr.  Stanley  looked 
amazed  when  Mr.  Willard.  spoke  to  me,  and  inquired 
if  I  knew  the  man.  I  told  him  I  had  simply  been  in- 
troduced to  him,  and  he  said,  'He  is  a  person  whose 
acquaintance  is  very  undesirable ;  he  is  a  drunkard  and 
a  gambler ;  he  belongs  to  a  good  family,  but  he  is  their 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  because  of  his  dissolute  ways.'  Per- 
haps this  sounds  harsh,  even  unkind  to  you,  but  I  am 
trying  to  do  by  you  as  I  would  by  my  own  sister  if  I 
had  one.  I  don't  want  you  to  spoil  your  life,  Sadie." 

The  girl  had  been  growing  more  composed  during 
Katherine's  revelations,  and  when  she  concluded  she 
sat  up  on  the  bed,  threw  her  handkerchief  away  and 
faced  her. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  have  told  me  this,  Katherine," 
she  said,  drawing  a  deep  breath,  "and  I  have  longed, 
ever  since  I  came  to  this  'house  of  peace' — for  it  has 
been  that  to  me — to  tell  you  this  secret  that  has  been 


254  KATHERINE'S 

eating  my  heart  out.  I  did  continue  to  meet  Ned  on 
the  sly,  even  after  I  promised  you,  last  spring,  that  I 
would  not.  I  wrote  him,  as  I  told  you  I  would,  about 
going  to  Mr.  Famsworth  and  doing  the  square  thing; 
but  he  only  laughed  at  me  and  still  insisted  upon  see- 
ing me  the  same  as  ever.  I — I  really  am  fond  of  him, 
honey,"  she  confessed,  a  vivid  blush  suffusing  her  face. 
"Ned  has  good  qualities,  in  spite  of  his  faults.  I  know 
that  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of  drinking  some,  but  we 
Southerners  don't  mind  that  as  much  as  you  North- 
erners do.  I — I  didn't  know  about  his  gambling — 
that  seems  dreadful.  I  know  he  thinks  the  world  of 
me,  for  when  my  guardian  said  he  was  going  to  take 
me  to  Europe  he  was  perfectly  wild  about  it ;  so  that 
is  why  I  gave  it  up.  Then  he  wanted — oh !  Katherine ! 

how  can  I  tell  you "  and  the  scarlet  face  went  down 

upon  the  pillow  again. 

"Yes,  dear,  I  suspected  it — I  almost  knew  that  he 
wanted  you  to  marry  him  secretly,  and  you  came  very 
near  consenting — would  have  taken  the  irrevocable 
step  perhaps  if  I  had  not  asked  you  to  come  with  me," 
gently  interposed  her  friend. 

"Katherine!  What  made  you  think  that?"  and  the 
girl  started  up  again,  amazed. 

"Oh !  several  things ;  your  fits  of  abstraction,  your 
'homesickness,'  your  'wretchedness/  and  the  remark- 
able reaction  that  followed  your  acceptance  of  my  in- 
vitation." 

"Well,  honey,  it  was  true,  and  I  shall  always  love 
you  for  saving  me  from  that,  for  I  knew  it  was  wrong. 
I  was  beginning  to  get  my  eyes  open  a  little,  though, 
and  to  feel  that  Ned  should  not  have  asked  me  to  marry 


SHEAVES  255 

him  in  any  such  way ;  but  I  hardly  knew  which  way  to 
turn,"  Sadie  confessed,  with  downcast  eyes. 

"Of  course,  I  am  glad  to  have  you  with  me ;  but  per- 
haps going  to  Europe  would  have  been  the  better  plan. 
It  would  have  taken  you  out  of  his  way,"  Katherine 
thoughtfully  observed. 

"I  couldn't  leave — I — I  didn't  want  to,"  faltered  her 
companion,  and  Katherine  sighed  as  she  saw  that  there 
was  an  even  stronger  attachment  here  than  she  had 
suspected. 

"He  has  been  trying  to  persuade  me  to — to  go  away 
with  him  ever  since  I  came  here,"  Sadie  resumed,  and 
evidently  determined  to  keep  nothing  back;  "and  to- 
day he  came  upon  me  suddenly  while  you  were  away, 
and  he  wasn't  very  kind" — her  lips  quivered  painfully 
over  those  last  words;  "but,"  she  presently  went  on, 
"since  I  have  been  here  many  things  have  begun  to 
seem  different  to  me,  and  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to 
go  back  to  school  and  do  my  very  best  next  year;  but 
if  Ned  is  going  to  keep  on  bothering  me  like  this,  I 
shall  be  wretched." 

"If  he  comes  again  I  think  we  will  have  to  let  papa 
deal  with  him,"  said  Katherine,  gravely. 

"Oh !  I  wouldn't  have  your  father  or  mother  know 
anything  about  it  for  the  world,"  cried  Sadie,  in  dis- 
tress. "I  begin  to  feel  ashamed  of  the  whole  affair 
myself,  and  I  would  not  marry  him  on  the  sly  now  for 
anything.  But  he  claims  that  I  am  pledged  to  him, 
and  says  he  will  make  trouble  for  me  if  I  try  to  dodge 
him,"  and  the  girl  nervously  twisted  a  diamond  ring 
which  she  wore  on  the  first  finger  of  her  left  hand. 

"There  is  nothing  to  prevent  you   from  releasing 


256  KATHERINE'S 

yourself  from  any  such  rash  pledge  if  you  choose  to 
do  so,"  said  Katherine.  Then  she  asked :  "Is  that 
your  engagement  ring,  dear?" 

"Yes;  but  I  haven't  dared  to  wear  it  on  the  right 
finger,  for  I  didn't  want  anyone  to  know,"  she  ad- 
mitted, with  a  blush  of  shame. 

Katherine  leaned  forward  and  smiled  fondly  into  her 
eyes. 

"You  understand,  I  am  sure,  that  I  do  not  wish  to 
meddle  in  an  affair  of  this  kind ;  but  if  you  will  allow 
me,  I  would  advise  you  to  return  that  ring  at  once. 
Tell  Mr.  Willard  that  you  revoke  your  promise  to  him, 
and  that  henceforth  he  is  to  leave  you  unmolested. 
Think  it  over,  Sadie,  and  I  am  sure  your  own  good 
judgment  will  tell  you  this  would  be  the  wiser  course. 
Now  I  will  leave  you  to  take  your  nap,  for  I  think  you 
need  it,"  and,  kissing  her  softly,  she  left  the  room. 

The  next  morning  a  great  burden  rolled  from  her 
heart  when  she  saw  Sadie  hand  the  postman  a  letter 
and  a  small  package  on  which  there  was  a  special  de- 
livery stamp,  and  she  earnestly  hoped  that  this  step  in 
the  right  direction  would  forever  end  the  disagreeable 
affair. 

The  following  day  the  Seabrooks  arrived,  and  our 
"brown-eyed  lassie"  was  very  happy  to  have  so  many 
of  her  school  friends  around  her;  but  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  see  how  pale  and  worn  Mrs.  Seabrook 
looked,  and  that  Dorrie  had  failed  not  a  little. 

After  a  few  days,  however,  the  child  appeared  to  im- 
prove a  trifle,  and  everybody  else  began  to  look  re- 
freshed and  hopeful  once  more.  Dr.  Stanley  devoted 
the  greater  portion  of  his  time  to  her,  and  she  was 


SHEAVES  257 

never  so  happy  as  when  he  wheeled  her  to  some  point 
where  she  could  have  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  ocean 
and  watch  the  foam-crested  waves  as  they  broke  upon 
the  rocks  on  the  shore. 

At  times,  when  she  was  sleeping  or  being  cared  for 
by  the  ever-faithful  Alice,  the  physician  and  his  sister 
might  have  been  found  at  the  Minturn  home,  where 
many  a  pleasant  hour  was  spent  on  its  broad  verandas, 
and  where  the  subject  of  Christian  Science  was  often 
the  theme  of  conversation,  and  Mrs.  Minturn  was  plied 
with  numerous  questions  by  Miss  Reynolds  and  the 
doctor  also. 

Mrs.  Seabrook  rarely  joined  in  these  discussions, 
but  Katherine  observed  that  she  was  a  very  attentive 
listener. 

Miss  Reynolds  had  become  an  enthusiastic  student; 
in  fact,  she  was  having  class  instruction  under  Mrs. 
Minturn,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  her  full  ac- 
ceptance of  its  teachings. 

Dr.  Stanley  maintained,  at  first,  a  very  conservative 
attitude;  but  it  was  apparent  that  he  had  read  more 
on  the  subject  than  he  was  ready  to  admit. 

Once  he  quoted  a  passage  from  "Unity  of  Good"* 
and  asked  Mrs.  Minturn  to  explain  it,  whereupon  Kath- 
erine bent  a  look  of  surprise  on  him. 

He  caught  her  glance,  flushed  slightly,  then  smiled. 

"Yes,  Miss  Minturn,"  he  said,  "after  glancing  at 
your  book,  that  day  when  we  met  under  the  beech 
tree,  I  felt  a  curiosity  to  know  more  of  what  it  con- 


*By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy. 


258  KATHERINE'S 

tained,  so  bought  a  copy  and — yes — read  it  through 
three  times." 

"Have  you  read  'Science  and  Health'?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Yes,  twice,  and  'Miscellaneous  Writings'*  once. 
What  do  you  think  of  such  a  confession  as  that  from  a 
doubly  dyed  M.D.  ?"  he  concluded,  with  heightened 
color  and  stealing  a  side  glance  at  his  sister. 

"I  should  say  you  are  getting  on  pretty  well,"  re- 
plied his  hostess. 

"No;  I  am  not  getting  on  at  all,"  he  asserted,  with 
an  uncomfortable  shrug.  "I  don't  understand  them 
and  I  find  I  am  at  cross- purposes  all  the  time." 

"Yes,  I  can  comprehend  that,  if  you  are  trying  to 
mix  materia  medico,  and  Science;  you  will  have  to  drop 
one  or  the  other,  or  still  be  at  'cross-purposes,'  "  re- 
turned the  lady. 

The  gentleman  made  no  reply,  and  the  subject  was 
changed. 

"Well,  Phillip,  you  electrified  me  this  afternoon !'' 
Mrs.  Seabrook  observed,  when,  later,  they  were  by 
themselves  at  home. 

"Why?  Because  of  the  books  I  confessed  to  hav- 
ing read  ?" 

"Yes;  when  did  you  begin  to  be  so  interested  in 
Christian  Science?" 

"When  that  child  was  healed  of  seasickness  on  ship- 
board." 

"And — are  you  going  to  adopt  it?" 

"I  don't  know,  Emelie.  I  haven't  reached  that  point 
vet." 


*By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy. 


SHEAVES  259 

"I  should  hope  not  after  all  your  years  of  study 
and  practice,  to  say  nothing  about  the  expense  in- 
volved," returned  his  sister,  in  a  tone  of  disapproval, 
for  she  was  exceedingly  proud  of  her  successful 
brother.  "Are  you  becoming  dissatisfied  with  your 
profession,  Phillip?"  she  asked,  after  a  moment. 

"When  I  encounter  a  case  like  Dome's  I  am  dissat- 
isfied with  it,"  he  admitted,  with  a  quiver  of  his  mobile 
lips.  "When  I  am  called  to  a  case  that  responds 
quickly  to  treatment,  I  feel  all  the  old  enthusiasm 
tingling  within  me.  Then,  again,  when  I  attend  our 
medical  associations  and  find  the  faculty  discarding 
methods  and  remedies  which  were  once  pronounced 
'wonderful  discoveries,'  and  substituting  something 
new  or  something  that  had  years  ago  been  discarded,  I 
become  disgusted,  and  declare  there  is  no  science  in 
inateria  medica;  that  it  is  but  'a  bundle  of  speculative 
theories,'  as  Mrs.  Eddy  puts  it  in  her  startling  chapter 
on  'Medicine.'  "* 

"What  rank  heresy,  Phil !"  exclaimed  his  sister,  with 
a  laugh. 

"I  know  it,  and  I  have  been  in  a  very  uncomfortable 
state  of  'mental  chemicalization' — which  is  another  pat 
phrase  coined  by  that  same  remarkable  woman — over  it 
for  some  time." 

"Dear  me !  what  is  the  world  coming  to  with  its  ever- 
changing  creeds,  doctrines  and  opinions?  One  begins 
to  feel  that  there  is  no  really  solid  foundation  to  any- 
thing," replied  Mrs.  Seabrook,  with  a  troubled  brow. 
"Phillip !'' — with  a  start  and  a  sudden  blanching  of  her 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  149. 


260  KATHERINE'S 

face — "are  you  losing  faith  in  your  treatment  of 
Dorothy  ?" 

"I  should  have  all  faith  if  she  were  improving  un- 
der it,"  he  returned,  moodily. 

"But  she  isn't !  You  are  seeing  that  as  well  as  I," 
and  the  mother's  voice  broke  with  sudden  anguish. 
"Oh,  if  you  are  losing  faith  I  shall  know  there  is  no 
hope." 

"Don't,  Emelie,"  pleaded  her  brother;  "I  really  am 
hoping  much  from  this  change " 

"Ah !  that  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  you  have  ex- 
hausted your  methods — that  our  only  hope  now  is  in  a 
salubrious  atmosphere,  etc.  It  has  been  the  same 
story,  over  and  over,"  she  wailed.  "Every  physician 
we  have  had — his  resources  having  failed — has  sug- 
gested 'change  of  air  and  scene,'  and  'hoped  that  nature 
would  do  the  rest.'  What  do  you  doctors  mean  by 
that  ?  What  is  'nature'  ?"  she  concluded,  almost  wildly. 

"I  see,  Emelie,  you  feel  that  is  a  way  of  begging  the 
question  to  secure  release  from  a  doubtful  position," 
the  man  returned,  sadly.  "Well" — with  a  sigh — "I 
am  forced  to  admit  that  none  of  our  remedies  are  in- 
fallible. But,  it  should  not  be  so,"  he  went  on,  thought- 
fully. "For  years  I  have  felt  it  when  disease  has  baffled 
me;  there  should  be  a  panacea — a  universal  remedy, 
provided  by  an  all-wise  Creator  for  suffering  human- 
ity ;  but,  ah !  to  find  it !" 

At  those  words  Mrs.  Seabrook  started  and  looked 
up  quickly. 

"Have  you  those  books — that  you  mentioned  to-day 
— with  you  ?"  she  inquired. 

"Yes." 


SHEAVES  261 

"I  want  to  read  them." 

"Will  would  never  forgive  me  for  putting  them  into 
your  hands." 

Mrs.  Seabrook  sat  suddenly  erect. 

"I  am  not  a  child  that  I  must  have  my  reading  se- 
lected for  me,"  she  retorted,  spiritedly.  "But,  I  can 
buy  them." 

"Dear,  I  wouldn't  force  you  to  that  expense  to  gain 
your  point,"  said  her  brother,  as  he  tenderly  laid  his 
arm  around  her  shoulders.  "They  are  in  my  trunk,  and 
you  can  have  them  whenever  you  wish.  But  you  are 
tired — go  to  bed  now,  and  I  hope  you  will  have  a  good 
night's  rest." 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  seemed  cross  and  out  of  sorts, 
Phil.  Perhaps  I  also  am  in  a  state  of  'mental  chemic- 
alization,' "  she  said,  with  a  faint  smile  that  ended  in  a 
sob;  "but,  indeed,  my  heart  is  very  sore.  I  shall  read 
your  books,  and,  if  they  appeal  to  me,  I — shall  have 
Christian  Science  treatment  for  my  child,"  and  there 
was  a  ring  of  something  very  like  defiance  in  her  voice 
which  smote  strangely  on  her  brother's  ear ;  for  Emelie 
Seabrook  had  ever  been  regarded  as  one  of  the  gentlest 
and  least  self-willed  of  women. 

But  the  reading  of  the  books  was  postponed,  for 
Dorrie  began  to  droop  again,  and  the  faithful  mother 
could  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  leave  her  even  for  nec- 
essary food  and  sleep.  Mrs.  Minturn,  Katherine  and 
Sadie  were  all  tireless  in  their  efforts  to  do  something 
to  lighten  her  burdens.  Many  a  delicacy  found  its  way 
to  the  cottage  to  tempt  the  capricious  appetite  of  the 
child ;  interesting  incidents  were  treasured  to  relate  to 


262  KATHERINE'S 

her,  and  many  devices  employed  to  shorten  the  weary 
hours. 

But  there  came  a  time  that  tried  them  all,  for,  in 
spite  of  the  greatest  care  and  watchfulness,  the  girl 
contracted  a  sudden  and  violent  cold,  and  became  so 
seriously  ill  that  Dr.  Stanley— though  he  gave  no  sign 
of  his  fears — felt  that  the  end  was  very  near. 

For  three  days  he  battled  fiercely  with  the  seeming 
destroyer,  while  her  suffering  drove  them  all  to  the 
verge  of  despair. 

At  sunset  of  the  third  day,  while  attempting  to 
change  her  position,  hoping  to  make  her  more  comfort- 
able, she  suddenly  lapsed  into  a  semi-conscious  state 
from  which  they  could  not  arouse  her.  When  this  con- 
dition had  lasted  for  upwards  of  half  an  hour  Mrs. 
Seabrook  turned  despairingly  to  her  brother. 

"Can  you  do  nothing,  Phillip?"  she  asked. 

"I  am  afraid  not,  Emelie,  except  to  continue  giving 
the  stimulants  to  try  to  keep  the  spark  of  life  a  little 
longer,"  he  returned  with  white  lips. 

His  sister  caught  her  breath  sharply. 

"Then — will  you  give  her  up  to — Mrs.  Minturn?" 
she  cried,  hoarsely. 

He  bent  a  look  of  surprised  inquiry  upon  her. 

"I  am  going  to  try  it,"  she  went  on,  still  in  that  un- 
natural tone.  "I  am  going  to  try  to  save  my  child,  and 
— I  do  not  care  who  says  'no.' " 

Phillip  Stanley  went  to  her,  took  her  white  face  be- 
tween his  hands  and  kissed  her  tenderly,  as  he  said : 

"Very  well,  Emelie,  I  will  go  at  once  for  her,  and, 
from  my  soul,  I  am  glad  that  you  have  taken  this 
stand." 


SHEAVES  263 

He  hurried  from  the  house  and  went  with  all  speed 
to  the  Minturn  mansion.  He  found  Mrs.  Minturn  on 
the  veranda,  Katherine  and  her  guests  having  gone 
for  a  walk. 

"Will  you  come  with  me?"  he  asked.  "You  are 
needed  at  once."  He  briefly  explained  the  situation  to 
her,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  they  were  both  at 
Dorothy's  bedside. 

"Oh,  can  you  do  anything  for  her?"  helplessly 
moaned  the  heart-broken  mother  as  the  woman  entered 
the  room. 

"Dear  heart,  God  is  our  refuge.  He  is  the  'strength 
of  our  life';  of  whom  shall  we  be  afraid?"  Mrs.  Min- 
turn quoted  in  calm,  sweet  tones,  as  she  slipped  a  reas- 
suring arm  around  Mrs.  Seabrook's  waist;  and,  stand- 
ing thus,  she  repeated  the  ninety-first  psalm  through  to 
the  end ;  then  dropping  her  face  upon  her  hand,  she 
treated  silently  for  ten  minutes  or  more. 

Meantime  Dorothy's  half-opened  lids  had  gently 
closed,  hiding  the  sightless  eyes,  and  she  lay  almost 
breathless  upon  her  pillows. 

Dr.  Stanley,  alertly  observant  of  every  change,  be- 
lieved it  was  the  end ;  but,  having  relinquished  his 
patient,  knowing  that  he  was  absolutely  helpless  at  this 
supreme  moment,  he  made  no  sign. 

Presently  Mrs.  Minturn  broke  the  silence. 

"Will  you  please  leave  me  alone  with  her  for  a 
while?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  I  cannot  leave  my  child!"  panted  Mrs.  Sea- 
brook,  rebelliously. 

"She  is  in  our  Father's  care — our  trust  is  in  Him," 
Mrs.  Minturn  gently  returned.  "Go  into  the  next  room 


164  KATHERINE'S 

and  lie  down.  I  promise  to  call  you  if  there  is  the 
slightest  need,  and,  believe  me,  I  ask  only  what  is 
best." 

Dr.  Stanley  took  his  sister  by  the  hand  and  led  her 
unresistingly  from  the  room.  He  made  her  go  to  an 
adjoining  chamber  and  lie  upon  a  couch,  then  seated 
himself  beside  her. 

To  his  amazement  her  tense  form  almost  instantly 
relaxed  and  in  twenty  minutes  she  was  asleep. 

He  sat  there  with  his  head  bowed  upon  his  hands  for 
nearly  two  hours,  thinking  as  he  had  seldom  thought 
during  his  whole  life.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  door 
of  Dorothy's  room  was  noiselessly  opened  and  Mrs. 
Minturn  beckoned  to  him. 

He  went  to  her — softly  closing  to  but  not  latching 
the  door  of  his  sister's  room — to  ascertain  what  she 
wanted,  but  with  fear  and  trembling. 

"Please  get  me  a  glass  of  warm  milk,"  she  said  to 
him. 

"There  is  some  brandy —    "  he  began. 

"No;  milk,  if  you  please,"  she  returned,  and  disap- 
peared within  the  room. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  handed  the  glass  in  to  her  and 
the  door  was  shut  again. 

Another  endless  hour  and  a  half  he  passed  sitting 
upon  a  balcony  that  opened  off  the  same  floor,  wait- 
ing— waiting  for  he  knew  not  what. 

Then  Mrs.  Minturn  came  to  him  with  the  empty 
tumbler  in  her  hand. 

"Have  it  filled  again,  please,"  she  said. 

"Is  it  for— Dorothy?" 


SHEAVES  265 

"Yes;  she  has  taken  what  you  brought  before  and 
asked  for  more." 

"Asked !"  and  in  spite  of  his  professional  self-poise 
the  man's  heart  bounded  into  his  throat. 

"Yes,  she  is  awake;  is  perfectly  conscious  and  free 
from  pain,  though  weak,  to  sense;  but  we  know  that 
God  is  omnipresent  strength,"  Mrs.  Minturn  replied, 
with  an  assurance  that  proved  to  him  she  was  con- 
fidently resting  upon  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and  which  also 
inspired  him  with  hope. 

When  he  returned  with  the  milk  he  longed  to  go  in 
and  see  for  himself  how  the  child  was  progressing,  but 
Mrs.  Minturn  stood  in  the  aperture  of  the  half-opened 
door,  and  he  instinctively  knew  that  his  presence  was 
not  desired. 

As  she  took  the  glass  from  him  she  inquired : 

"Is  Mrs.  Seabrook  sleeping?" 

"I  think  so — she  was  when  I  left  her." 

"Pray  let  her  rest,"  said  his  companion ;  "but  if  she 
should  wake  tell  her  that  Dorrie  is  more  comfortable; 
that  I  shall  remain  with  her  all  night  and  do  not  wish 
to  be  disturbed.  And  you,  Dr.  Stanley" — with  gentle 
authority — "you  must  try  to  rest  also;  you  may  safely 
trust  the  child  to  God,  and  with  me  as  His  sentinel,  for 
she  is  doing  well.  But  first,  if  you  will  slip  over  to 
the  house  and  ask  Katherine  to  send  my  night-wrapper 
I  can  make  myself  more  comfortable;  just  drop  it  out- 
side the  door,  then  go  to  bed  and  'be  not  faithless  but 
believing,'  Good-night." 

She  softly  closed  the  door,  and  the  man  went  obedi- 
ently to  do  her  bidding;  while,  "after  the  storm  there 
was  a  great  calm"  in  his  heart. 


266  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Interesting  Developments. 

Phillip  Stanley  sped  across  the  street  to  do  his 
errand  and  inquired  for  Katherine. 

She  heard  his  voice  and  went  directly  to  him  when 
he  told  her  what  her  mother  had  just  said  about 
Dorrie,  and  the  light  that  leaped  into  her  great  brown 
eyes  inspired  him  with  fresh  hope. 

"Ah !  mamma  is  holding  her  in  the  'secret  place,' 
and  we  know  she  is  safe,"  she  said,  in^a  reverent  tone. 

She  quickly  brought  the  wrapper ;  then,  with  a  brief 
handclasp,  he  bade  her  "good-night"  and  retraced  his 
steps. 

Before  going  upstairs  he  sought  the  kitchen,  where 
the  cook  was  lingering,  thinking  something  might  be 
needed,  and  ordered  a  dainty  lunch  prepared ;  then, 
taking  both  tray  and  garment,  he  left  them  at  Dorrie's 
door  and  passed  on  to  the  next  room  to  find  his  sister 
just  waking. 

"Phillip!"  she  cried,  starting  up,  "I  have  been 
asleep !" 

"Yes,  Emelie,  for  more  than  three  hours,  I  am  glad 
to  say." 

"Oh,  how  inconsiderate  of  me !  And — Dorrie  ?"  she 
questioned,  in  a  quavering  voice. 

"Is  more  comfortable.    She  has  been  awake  twice, 


SHEAVES  267 

and  had  two  glasses  of  milk,"  replied  her  brother,  as  he 
laid  a  gentle,  but  restraining  hand  upon  her  shoulder, 
for  she  was  on  the  point  of  rising. 

She  regarded  him  wonderingly. 

"Phillip !  I  can't  believe  it !  I  must  go  to  her,"  she 
said,  almost  breathless. 

"No;  Mrs.  Minturn  is  going  to  remain  all  night. 
She  says  she  is  not  to  be  disturbed,  and  we  must  respect 
her  wishes,"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  authoritatively.  "She 
will  call  you  if  you  are  needed,  but  says  she  wants  us 
both  to  rest,  if  possible.  Now  lie  down  again,  dear, 
and  I  will  sit  in  the  Morris  chair  in  the  hall,  to  be  near 
if  you  wish  to  speak  to  me." 

Mrs.  Seabrook  sat  irresolute  a  moment,  her  eyes 
anxious  and  yearning. 

"Emelie,  you  have  voluntarily  given  Dorrie  into 
God's  hands ;  now  prove  that  you  trust  Him,"  her 
companion  gravely  admonished. 

She  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled. 

"Yes,  I  will;  and  I  believe  that  'His  hand  is  not 
shortened  that  it  cannot  save,  nor  His  ear  heavy  that 
it  cannot  hear,' "  she  replied,  and  immediately  lay 
back  upon  her  pillow. 

Her  brother  covered  her  with  a  shawl,  then  left  her 
with  a  thankful  heart,  for  he  knew  she  was  sadly  in 
need  of  rest. 

Going  to  his  room,  he  secured  his  copy  of  "Science 
and  Health,"  and,  retracing  his  steps,  settled  himself 
to  read  by  the  table  in  the  hall,  which  was  often  used 
as  a  sitting  room. 

As  he  sat  down  he  observed  that  Mrs.  Minturn's 


268  KATHERINE'S 

wrapper  and  the  tray  had  disappeared ;  then  he  became 
absorbed  in  his  book. 

The  next  he  knew  a  hand  was  laid  softly  on  his 
shoulder,  and,  starting  erect,  he  saw  that  a  new  day 
was  just  breaking  and  Mrs.  Minturn  standing  beside 
him,  looking  as  fresh  and  serene  as  if  she  had  just 
come  from  hours  of  sweet  repose  instead  of  from  a 
long  night's  vigil. 

"Dorrie  is  hungry,"  she  said,  "and  I  think  it  would 
be  well  if  you  would  arouse  one  of  the  maids  and  have 
something  nice  prepared  for  her." 

"I  will;  what  shall  it  be?"  said  the  man,  springing 
nimbly  to  his  feet,  but  scarcely  able  to  credit  his  ears. 

"A  dropped  egg  and  a  slice  of  toast,  with  a  glass 
of  milk,  will  perhaps  be  forthcoming  as  quickly  as  any- 
thing  " 

"Wait,  Phil — don't  call  anyone.  I  will  get  it,"  in- 
terposed Mrs.  Seabrook's  voice,  just  behind  them. 
"Dorrie  hungry !"  she  added,  wonderingly. 

She  had  heard  Mrs.  Minturn's  request,  and  hurried 
out  to  convince  herself  that  she  was  not  dreaming. 

"Yes,  so  she  says,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn,  smiling  se- 
renely into  the  questioning  eyes,  "and  when  her  break- 
fast is  ready  I  think  she  will  prove  the  truth  of  her 
words  to  you." 

Away  sped  the  mother,  marveling  at  what  she  had 
heard,  but  with  a  hymn  of  praise  thrilling  her  heart ; 
and,  ten  minutes  later,  as  she  moved  lightly  over  the 
stairs  again,  she  heard  a  sweet,  though  weak,  voice  say- 
ing: 

"Listen,  Mrs.  Minturn ! — just  hear  the  birds  sing !" 

Phillip  Stanley  heard  it  also,  as  he  sat  in  the  hall, 


SHEAVES  269 

his  head  bowed  upon  his  hands,  while  great  tears  rolled 
over  his  cheeks  and  dropped  unheeded  on  the  floor; 
and,  as  the  feathered  choristers  without  sweetly  chirped 
their  tuneful  matins,  his  grateful  heart  responded  with 
reverent  joy — "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest." 

As  Mrs.  Seabrook  entered  Dorrie's  room  and  saw 
the  change  in  the  loved  face — still  very  thin  and  white, 
it  is  true,  but  with  a  look  of  peace  on  the  brow,  the 
eyes  bright,  the  pale  lips  wreathed  with  smiles — her 
composure  well-nigh  forsook  her. 

"Mamma,  hear  the  birds  ! — and  it  isn't  sunrise  yet !" 
she  said  again,  as  her  mother  approached  her. 

"Yes,  dear;  but  I  hear  what  is  far  sweeter  music  to 
me,"  the  woman  replied,  making  a  huge  effort  at  self- 
control.  "So  you  are  hungry,  Dorrie!"  she  added, 
bending  to  kiss  the  lips  uplifted  to  greet  her. 

"Yes,  really  and  truly  hungry,  and  so  happy ;  for  my 
cold  and  the  pain  are  all  gone.  How  kind  of  Mrs. 
Minturn  to  stay  with  me!  Did  you  sleep,  mamma?" 

"Like  a  kitten,  dear.  I  think  we  have  a  great  deal 
to  thank  Mrs.  Minturn  for,"  said  Mrs.  Seabrook,  bend- 
ing a  grateful  look  upon  her  friend. 

"That  tastes  good,"  Dorrie  observed,  as  she  partook, 
with  evident  relish,  of  the  delicately  prepared  egg, 
"and  how  nicely  you  do  toast  bread!  It  looks  almost 
like  gold." 

She  was  silent  a  moment,  then  resumed : 

"Mamma,  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  how  beauti- 
fully Mrs.  Minturn  talked  to  me,  last  night,  every 
time  I  awoke;  and  repeated  such  lovely  things  from 
the  Bible.  Of  course,  I  have  heard  them  before,  but, 
somehow,  they  sound  different  as  she  says  them." 


270  KATHERINE'S 

"And  you  begin  to  see  that  God  never  made  or  in- 
tended anyone  to  be  sick  or  suffer ;  that  it  is  your  right 
to  be  well  and  strong.  You  will  try  to  think  of  that 
often  to-day,  will  you  not,  Dorothy?"  said  Mrs.  Min- 
turn,  as  she  lifted  the  small  hand  near  her,  to  find  no 
fever  but  a  gentle  moisture  in  the  palm,  instead. 

"Yes,  and  I've  a  better  idea  now  of  what  Miss  Kath- 
erine  once  said  about  God — that  He  is  Mind  and  per- 
fect, and  if  we  would  let  this  perfect  Mind  rule  us  we 
would  be  well.  What  was  that  you  read  me  from  your 
little  book  about  it  feeding  the  body?"  the  girl  ear- 
nestly inquired. 

"  'Mind  constantly  feeds  the  body  with  supernal 
freshness  and  fairness/  "*  quoted  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Yes,  that  was  it ;  if  that  is  true,  people  should  never 
be  sick,"  said  Dorothy,  with  a  little  sigh. 

"No,  and  they  would  not  be  if  they  only  knew  how 
to  let  the  divine  Mind  control  them.  You  are  going  to 
learn  how,  Dorothy,  and  so  find  yourself  growing 
strong  and  well  with  every  day,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn, 
with  a  cheery  smile. 

"I  wish  I  knew  more  about  it,"  Dorothy  wistfully 
observed.  "Mamma,  why  cannot  we  have  a  book  like 
Mrs.  Minturn's?" 

"We  will  have,  dear,"  was  the  prompt  response. 
"Have  you  had  enough  ?" — as  the  girl  gently  put  away 
the  half-eaten  slice  of  toast. 

"Yes,  when  I  have  had  the  milk."  She  drank  it  all 
and  then  lay  back,  smiling  contentedly.  "It  is  so  nice 
not  to  have  any  pain,"  she  added ;  "it  makes  me  love 

*"Science  and  Health,"  page  248. 


SHEAVES  271 

everybody.  Ha !  Uncle  Phil" — for  the  man  was  peer- 
ing in  at  the  door,  unable  to  keep  away  a  moment 
longer — "come  here  and  I  will  kiss  you  'good-morn- 
ing.'  " 

Mrs.  Seabrook  could  bear  no  more  and  stole  away 
with  her  tray  to  hide  the  tears  she  could  no  longer 
restrain. 

Mrs.  Minturn  followed  her. 

"I  am  going  now,"  she  said,  "but  I  shall  continue 
to  work  for  Dorrie  all  day,  at  intervals,  and  will  run 
over  now  and  then.  All  is  going  well,  so  'be  not  afraid, 
only  believe.' " 

"How  can  I  ever  express  what  is  in  my  heart?"  fal- 
tered Mrs.  Seabrook,  tears  raining  over  her  face. 

"You  do  not  need  to  try,  for  I  know  it  all,  having 
once  been  almost  where  Dorrie  seemed  to  be  last  night," 
her  friend  returned.  "But  do  not  make  a  marvel  of  it 
— just  know  that  God's  ways  are  'divinely  natural/  and 
that  it  is  unnatural  for  anything  but  health  and  har- 
mony to  exist  in  His  universe.  I  have  left  my  book, 
and  you  can  read  to  her  if  she  expresses  a  wish  to  have 
you  do  so." 

There  were  very  grateful,  reverent  hearts  in  the 
Hunt  cottage  that  day  and  during  the  days  that  fol- 
lowed, for  Dorothy  continued  to  improve  rapidly  and 
steadily,  and  there  was  no  return  of  the  old  pain  that 
had  made  life  so  wretched  for  her  for  years. 

The  fourth  day  after  her  long  night-watch  Mrs.  Min- 
turn sent  a  roomy  carriage — the  back  seat  piled  with 
down  coverlids — "to  take  them  all  for  a  drive." 

Dr.  Stanley,  still  governed  largely  by  the  "old 
thought,"  would  have  vetoed  such  a  suggestion  under 


272  KATHERINE'S 

different  circumstances,  and  claimed  that  the  child 
was  still  too  weak  to  attempt  anything  of  the  kind. 
But  he  felt  that  he,  himself,  was  now  under  orders, 
and  meekly  refrained  from  even  expressing  an  opinion. 

So  they  thankfully  accepted  their  neighbor's  kind- 
ness, and  when  he  saw  Dome's  delight  in  being  once 
more  out  of  doors,  when  he  met  her  dancing  eyes  and 
noted  the  faint  color  coming  into  her  cheeks  and  lips, 
and  every  day  realized  that  she  was  getting  stronger, 
something  within  seemed  to  tell  him  that  she  would 
yet  be  well;  and — figuratively  speaking — he  reverently 
took  off  his  materia  medica  hat  to  Mrs.  Minturn  and 
secretly  registered  the  vow  of  Ruth  to  Naomi — "Thy 
people  shall  be  my  people  and  thy  God  my  God." 

One  evening,  after  Dorothy  was  in  bed  and  asleep, 
he  came  upon  his  sister  in  the  upper  hall  reading 
"Science  and  Health,"  and  he  smiled,  for  since  the 
night  of  their  great  trial  she  had  literally  devoured 
the  book  every  spare  moment  she  could  get. 

"Have  you  written  Will  anything  about  our  recent 
experiences?"  he  inquired,  as  she  glanced  up  at  him. 

"No;  and  I  am  not  going  to — just  yet.  Of  course,  I 
have  written  him,"  she  hastened  to  add,  "but  I  have 
said  nothing  about  Dorrie,  except  that  she  is  improv- 
ing. I  think" — thoughtfully — "I  will  make  'open  con- 
fession' by  another  week,  for  I  had  a  talk  with  Mrs. 
Minturn,  this  afternoon,  and  she  feels  that  it  is  hardly 
fair,  that  she  is  not  quite  justified  to  go  on  with  the 
treatment  without  his  consent." 

"Suppose  he  should  still  object?"  suggested  Dr. 
Stanley. 

"Oh,  he  will  not — he  cannot  when  he  learns  the  truth 


SHEAVES  273 

and  of  the  great  change  in  her;  that  the  old  pain  is 
gone  and  she  sleeps  the  whole  night  through,"  ear- 
nestly returned  Mrs.  Seabrook,  but  flushing  hotly,  for 
she  had  been  secretly  dreading  to  tell  her  husband  of 
the  responsibility  she  had  assumed. 

"Well,  when  you  are  ready  to  write  let  me  know, 
for  I  also  shall  have  something  to  say  to  him,"  said 
her  brother,  gravely. 

A  week  later  two  voluminous  letters,  charged  with 
matter  of  serious  import,  went  sailing  over  the  ocean 
on  their  way  to  Paris,  where  it  was  expected  they  would 
find  Prof.  Seabrook,  who,  having  turned  his  face  home- 
ward, would  spend  the  last  week  of  August  there. 

Each  was  characteristic  of  the  writer;  the  mother's 
touchingly  pathetic  in  describing  the  "valley  of  the 
shadow"  through  which  they  had  passed,  and  glowing 
with  love  and  gratitude  to  God  in  view  of  the  present 
hopeful  and  peaceful  conditions ;  closing  with  an  ear- 
nest, even  piteous,  appeal  for  her  husband's  unqualified 
consent  to  continue  Christian  Science  treatment. 

The  young  physician  was  no  less  earnest  in  laying 
the  case  before  his  brother-in-law,  but  rather  more 
logical  and  philosophical  in  discussing  it,  as  well  as 
very  positive  in  his  deductions.  In  conclusion  he 
wrote : 

"Perhaps  you  may  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  have 
been  reading  up  on  this  subject  during  the  last  few 
months;  but,  as  I  have  also  been  practicing  medicine, 
at  the  same  time,  the  mental  conflict  has  been  some- 
thing indescribable.  I  told  myself,  in  my  presumption 
and  egotism,  that  if  there  was  healing  power  in  Chris- 
tian Science  I  would  look  into  it  and  utilize  it  in  con- 


274  KATHERINE'S 

nection  with  my  own  methods.  The  result  has  been 
a  state  of  perpetual  fizz — I  know  no  better  word  to 
describe  it;  and  now,  after  our  recent  experience,  I 
find  myself  willing  to  sit  humbly  at  the  feet  of  higher 
authority  and  learn  of  a  better  and  more  efficacious 
healing  art  than  I  know  of  at  present.  For,  I  tell  you 
in  plain  terms,  Dorothy  was  dying — she  was  past  all 
human  aid  when  that  blessed  woman  came,  like  an 
angel  of  peace,  to  us  and  in  one  night  brought  back 
our  darling  from  the  border  of  the  unseen  world.  She, 
with  her  understanding  of  Christian  Science,  saved  her. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  on  that  point,  and  the  child 
is  better  than  I  have  ever  seen  her  since  her  accident. 
There  has  been  no  return  of  pain,  and  you  can  imagine 
what  that  means  to  us  all.  She  sleeps  well,  and  has 
a  healthy,  normal  appetite.  But  Mrs.  Minturn  is  very 
conscientious — says  she  cannot  work  in  a  divided 
household,  and  must  have  your  approval,  if  she  is  to 
go  on  with  the  good  work.  Now,  Will,  be  a  man ;  put 
your  prejudices  away  on  some  upper  shelf — or,  better 
still,  cast  them  to  the  winds ;  pocket  your  ecclesiastical 
and  intellectual  pride,  and  give  Dorrie  a  chance.  I  am 
convinced  'there  is  more  in  this  philosophy  than  we 
have  ever  dreamed  of,'  and  I  am  going  to  know  more 
about  it.  Cable  just  two  words — 'go  on' — if  you  are 
willing,  and,  at  the  rate  she  is  going  on  now,  I'll  wager 
a  hat  against  a  cane  that  you  won't  know  your  own 
daughter  when  you  arrive.  Bring  the  cane,  please ! 
In  the  same  spirit  of  good  fellowship  as  ever. 
"Affectionately  yours, 

"PHIL." 

There  was  a  season  of  anxious,  yet  blessed,  waiting 
after  these  letters  were  dispatched.  Blessed  for 
Dorothy,  who  was  gaining  every  hour,  and  happy  as 
the  day  was  long;  anxious  for  Mrs.  Seabrook,  who 
could  not  quite  divest  herself  of  the  fear  of  her  hus- 


SHEAVES  275 

band's  disapproval,  even  though  Mrs.  Minturn  was  con- 
stantly admonishing,  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled," 
and  working  to  demonstrate  that  there  could  be  no 
opposition  to  Truth  and  that  the  work,  so  well  begun, 
could  not  be  hindered  by  bigotry,  pride  or  self-will. 

At  last,  one  morning  there  came  a  cable  message — 
just  two  words,  as  Phillip  Stanley  had  requested,  but 
not  what  he  had  asked  for. 

"  'Sail  to-day,' "  Mrs.  Seabrook  read  aloud  from  the 
yellow  slip,  and  lost  color  as  she  looked  anxiously  into 
her  brother's  eyes  and  questioned: 

"What  shall  we  do?" 

"We  will  ask  Mrs.  Minturn,"  he  gravely  replied. 

So  the  message  was  taken  to  her,  and  after  a  thought- 
ful silence  she  turned  with  her  serene  smile  to  the  wait- 
ing mother. 

"We  will  go  on,"  she  said.  "The  question  is  ig- 
nored, and  silence  gives  consent  until  we  have  more 
definite  instructions." 

And  go  on  they  did,  all  working  together,  praying, 
reading,  trusting,  while  they  waited  for  the  white- 
winged  vessel  and  the  traveler  that  were  speeding  to- 
wards them. 

Three  days  later,  a  black  bordered  envelope  was 
handed  Katherine. 

"It  has  no  more  power  than  you  give  it,  dearie,"  ob- 
served her  mother,  who  saw  that  she  did  not  at  once 
open  it.  * 

The  girl  thanked  her  with  a  smile,  and  instantly 
broke  the  seal. 

"It  is  from  Jennie  Wild,  mamma,"  she  said,  as  she 


276 


KATHERINE'S 


turned  to  the  signature  on  the  last  page.     Then  she 
read  aloud : 

"DEAR  Miss  MINTURN  :  Auntie  is  gone,  and  it  was 
all  so  sudden  and  awful  I  cannot  realize  it  even  yet. 
She  just  went  to  sleep  last  Thursday,  in  her  chair,  and 
never  woke  up.  She  was  so  dear — so  dear,  and  I  loved 
her  with  all  my  heart,  and  it  seems  to  take  everything 
out  of  the  world  for  me,  for  her  going  leaves  me  alone, 
with  no  one  to  love,  or  have  a  kindred  feeling  for  me. 
I  had  planned  to  do  such  great  things  for  her  when 
I  should  leave  school,  so  that  she  need  not  work  every 
minute  to  support  me,  and  now  I  can  do  nothing  and 
have  been  a  burden  to  her  all  these  years.  It  is  dread- 
ful to  be  a  'stray  waif,'  your  identity  lost,  and  your 
only  friend  swept  out  of  the  world  without  a  mo- 
ment's warning. 

"Well,  I  am  young  and  strong — I  can  work,  and 
sometime,  perhaps,  I  shall  understand  why  I  am  here — 
what  special  niche  I  am  to  fill ;  though  at  present  noth- 
ing but  a  blank  wall  seems  to  loom  up  before  me.  Of 
course,  this  means  I  am  not  going  back  to  Hilton,  for 
auntie's  annuity  ceased  when  she  went;  the  quarterly 
remittance  came  the  day  before,  so  there  was  enough, 
and  a  little  more,  to  take  care  of  her.  I  am  going,  to- 
morrow, to  Jerome's,  to  see  if  I  can  get  a  place  in  the 
store.  I  want  to  stay  here  because,  now  and  then,  I 
can  see  you,  the  Seabrooks,  and  some  of  the  other  girls 
who  have  been  good  to  me.  Please  write  to  me,  dear 
Miss  Minturn.  I  thought  of  you  first  in  my  trouble, 
for  you  always  have  something  so  comforting  to  say 
when  one  is  unhappy.  Do  you  know  anything  about 
Prof,  and  Mrs.  Seabrook,  or  how  Dorothy  is? 
"Lovingly  yours, 

"JENNIE   WILD." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  after  Katherine  finished 
reading  this  epistle,  during  which  both  mother  and 


SHEAVES  277 

daughter  were  absorbed  in  thought.  They  were  alone, 
for  Miss  Reynolds  had  left  a  few  days  previous  and 
Sadie  had  gone  to  Boston  to  do  some  shopping. 

"Mamma,"  said  Katherine,  at  length,  breaking  the 
silence,  "there  is  Grandma  Minturn's  legacy." 

Mrs.  Minturn  lifted  a  bewildered  look  to  her. 

"Ah !"  she  said,  the  next  moment,  as  she  caught  her 
meaning,  "I  understand;  you  want  to  use  it  for 
Jennie." 

"Yes ;  it  is  too  bad  for  her  education  to  be  stopped. 
She  is  a  conscientious  student,  in  spite  of  her  pranks, 
and  I  cannot  endure  the  thought  of  her  going  into  a 
dry-goods  store  as  a  clerk,"  Katherine  replied. 

"But  the  will  states  that  the  legacy  is  to  be  used 
for  'a  European  tour,  or  a  wedding  trousseau,  or '  " 

"I  know ;  but,  mamma,  I've  had  my  European  tour 
with  you — such  a  lovely  one,  too!"  Katherine  inter- 
posed; "while  as  for  the  trousseau" — this  with  a  faint 
smile — "that  is  a  possible  need  so  far  away  in  the  dim 
distance  as  to  be  absolutely  invisible  at  present.  So  if 
you  will  let  me  use  the  money  for  Jennie  I  shall  be 
happy,  and  I  am  sure  it  will  be  'bread'  well  'cast  upon 
the  waters.'  " 

"Dear  heart !"  replied  her  mother,  in  a  voice  that  was 
not  quite  steady,  "it  is  a  lovely  thought ;  but  we  cannot 
decide  so  important  a  matter  without  consulting  your 
father.  If  he  approves  you  have  my  hearty  sanction." 

John  Minturn,  big-hearted,  whole-souled,  and  al- 
ways ready  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  a  needy  brother 
or  sister,  was  deeply  touched  by  Katherine's  generosity. 

"Well,  'my  girlie,'  I  guess  you  can  do  about  as  you 
have  a  mind  to  with  grandma's  legacy,"  he  said,  when 


278  KATHERINE'S 

she  unfolded  her  plan  to  him.  "To  be  sure  she  stated 
what  it  might  be  used  for,  but  I  think  she  meant  you  to 
get  what  you  most  wanted  with  it.  You've  had  the 
trip  abroad,  as  you  say,  and" — with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eyes  that  brought  the  color  to  her  cheeks — "when  the 
wedding  finery  is  needed — which  I  hope  won't  be  for  a 
long  time  yet — I  imagine  it  will  promptly  be  forth- 
coming." 

"Thank  you,  papa.  I  wonder  if  any  other  girl  man- 
ages to  get  her  own  way  as  often  as  I  do!"  said  the 
happy  maiden,  as  she  gave  his  ear  a  playful  tweak  and 
supplemented  it  with  a  kiss  on  his  lips. 

"Well,  Miss  Philanthropy,  for  once  I'll  concede  that 
it  is  an  irresistible  'way,'  "  he  retorted,  then  added  more 
seriously :  "And  I  think  we  will  insist  that  Miss  Wild 
shall  return  to  Hilton  as  a  regular  student  and  have  no 
outside  duties  to  handicap  her  in  the  race,  for  the  next 
three  years." 

"That  was  my  own  thought,  too,  papa ;  but" — with  a 
look  of  perplexity — "there  are  nearly  three  weeks  be- 
fore school  opens,  and  I  am  wondering  what  she  will 
do  with  herself  during  that  time." 

"Oh,  that  is  easily  managed ;  tell  her  to  board  with 
some  nice  family,  and  be  getting  her  finery  in  order. 
Judging  from  what  is  going  on  upstairs,  she'll  need  a 
few  stitches  taken  as  well  as  some  other  people  whom 
I  know,"  returned  the  man,  with  a  chuckle ;  for,  unlike 
the  majority  of  his  kind,  he  took  a  deep  interest  in  the 
apparel  of  his  wife  and  daughter,  especially  in  the 
"pretty  nothings"  which  add  so  much  to  the  tout 
ensemble. 


SHEAVES  279 

But  upon  confiding  her  plans  to  Mrs.  Seabrook,  that 
lady  at  once  vetoed  the  boarding  proposition. 

"Tell  Jennie  to  go  directly  to  the  seminary  and  re- 
main with  the  matron  and  maids,  who  will  be  there 
next  Monday  to  begin  to  put  the  house  in  order,"  she 
had  said.  "And — as  she  knows  where  everything  be- 
longs— if  she  will  oversee  our  rooms  put  to  rights  I 
shall  feel  that  I  need  nol  hurry  back." 

So,  with  a  happy  heart,  Katherine  wrote  immediately 
to  her  protegee  a  loving,  tender  letter,  which  also  con- 
tained sympathetic  messages  from  all  her  other  friends. 
Then,  with  great  tact,  she  unfolded  her  own  plans  and 
wishes  regarding  her  future,  and  in  conclusion  said : 

"Jennie,  dear,  never  again  say  that  you  are  a  'stray 
waif,'  for  nothing  ever  goes  astray  in  God's  universe. 
Your  'identity'  is  not  'lost,'  for  you  are  God's  child,  and 
that  child  can  never  be  deprived  of  her  birthright,  nor 
of  any  good  thing  necessary  to  her  happiness  or  well- 
being.  Neither  have  you  'been  deprived  of  your  only 
friend,'  nor  has  she  been  swept  beyond  the  focus  of 
your  love,  or  you  of  hers.  The  bond  that  existed  be- 
tween you  can  never  be  broken,  for  it  was,  and  still  is, 
the  reflection  of  divine  Love  that  is  omnipresent.  I 
am  looking  forward  to  our  reunion,  and  shall  think  of 
you  often  as  the  days  slip  by. 

"With  dear  love, 

"KATHERINE  MINTURN." 

The  response  which  Katherine  received  to  the  above 
letter  drew  tears  from  her  eyes,  for  Jennie's  full  heart 
overflowed  most  touchingly,  showing  a  depth  of  grate- 
ful appreciation  that  did  her  much  credit. 

While  still  grieving  for  her  "dear  auntie,"  she  could 


28o  KATHERINE'S 

not  restrain  her  joy,  in  view  of  the  great  boon  of  go- 
ing back  to  school,  and  wrote  of  it : 

"I  did  not  think  anything  could  make  me  so  happy 
again,  and  I  can  never  tell  you  how  I  love  you  for  it. 
I  will  improve  every  minute.  I  will  make  you  all  proud 
of  me.  No  one  shall  ever  have  cause  to  call  me  'Wild 
Jennie'  again,  and  when  I  graduate  and  get  to  teaching 
I  shall  pay  you  back  every  penny  it  has  ct>st  to  fit  me 
for  it." 

One  evening,  after  dinner,  the  Minturns  went,  with 
some  friends  who  were  visiting  them,  to  Katherine's 
favorite  outlook,  and,  as  they  were  passing  the  Hunt 
cottage  they  saw  Dr.  Stanley  on  the  porch  and  invited 
him  to  join  them.  The  sun  was  just  setting  as  they 
reached  their  point  of  observation,  where  the  view,  illu- 
minated by  the  vivid  crimson  and  gold  in  the  western 
sky,  was  impressive  and  magnificent  beyond  descrip- 
tion. 

They  lingered  long,  as  if  loath  to  leave  the  enchant- 
ing prospect ;  but,  as  the  softer  shades  of  twilight  be- 
gan to  steal  gently  like  a  veil  of  gauze  over  the  scene, 
they  turned  their  faces  homeward  once  more. 

As  she  was  on  the  point  of  following,  Katherine 
found  Dr.  Stanley  tarrying  beside  her. 

"Will  you  wait  a  moment?"  he  inquired,  in  a  low 
voice,  which  impressed  her  as  sounding  not  quite  nat- 
ural. 

She  paused  with  an  inquiring  look,  and  he  led  her 
back  towards  the  edge  of  the  bluff. 

"Miss  Minturn,  do  you  see  a  vessel  far  out  at  sea  ?" 
he  asked. 


SHEAVES  281 

"Yes,  it  is  a " 

"Pardon  me,  please,"  he  interposed;  "it  is  a  five- 
masted  schooner,  with  sails  all  set,  is  it  not?" 

"Why,  yes,"  she  began,  turning  to  him  in  surprise, 
to  find  him  looking  off  at  the  vessel,  his  right  eye  cov- 
ered with  one  hand. 

For  a  moment  she  could  not  speak.  Then  her  face 
grew  luminous  with  a  great  joy  as  she  realized  what 
it  meant. 

"Oh !"  she  breathed,  softly. 

"Yes,  I  can  see,"  he  said.  "The  sight  has  been 
slowly  coming  during  the  last  month,  and  I  have  dimly 
discerned  things  around  me.  Yesterday  Mrs.  Minturn 
made  a  startling  statement  regarding  sight  being  'spir- 
itual perception' — that  'it  is  not  dependent  upon  the 
physical  eye,  the  optic  nerves,  etc.,  but  upon  Mind,  the 
all-seeing  God,'  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  something  I 
had  not  comprehended  before.  To-day  I  found  I  could 
read  my  'Science  and  Health'  clearly,  with  both  eyes ; 
but  I  have  not  spoken  of  it  to  anyone  until  now — 'twas 
you  who  first  assured  me  that  such  a  boon  could  be 
conferred.  Miss  Minturn" — he  removed  his  hat  and 
bowed  his  head  reverently — "all  honor  to  the  'Science 
of  sciences'  and  to  her,  the  inspired  messenger  through 
whom  it  has  been  given  to  a  needy  world." 


282  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

'The  'Traveler  Returns. 

One  evening  Sadie  was  sitting  by  herself  upon  the 
veranda  that  overlooked  the  ocean,  and  where  she  was 
watching  a  glorious  full  moon  which  seemed  to  be 
rolling  straight  out  of  the  glimmering  sea  into  the 
cloudless  vault  above.  It  was  unusual  for  her  to  be 
alone,  but  Mrs.  Minturn  had  slipped  away  for  a  chat 
with  Mrs.  Seabrook,  and  Katherine,  at  the  invitation 
of  Dr.  Stanley,  had  gone  for  a  walk  to  the  library  in 
search  of  an  interesting  book  for  Dorothy. 

Sadie  had  changed  much  during  her  summer  with 
her  friends.  She  had  grown  more  thoughtful,  more 
self-poised,  more  orderly  and  systematic  in  her  ways ; 
while,  it  goes  without  saying,  she  had  become  deeply 
attached  to  every  member  of  the  family. 

Just  now  she  was  absorbed  in  a  mental  discussion 
with  herself  regarding  what  would  be  the  most  ac- 
ceptable and  appropriate  gift  she  could  offer  each  one, 
to  attest  her  appreciation  of  their  united  kindness  and 
unrivaled  hospitality  in  taking  her  so  lovingly  into 
their  household  for  the  long  vacation. 

Without  having  heard  a  step  or  a  movement,  with- 
out a  suspicion  that  any  living  being  was  near,  her 
name  was  suddenly  pronounced  in  familiar  tones  di- 
rectly behind  her. 


SHEAVES  283 

"Sadie!" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  faced  the  intruder. 

"Oh,  Ned !  Why  have  you  come  ?  Why  cannot  you 
let  me  alone?"  she  cried,  in  a  startled  tone. 

"I  have  come  to  make  you  take  back  your  ring," 
and  he  held  out  the  box  to  her.  "And  I  cannot  'leave 
you  alone,'  because — you  know  why,  Sadie." 

"No,  I  shall  not  take  back  the  ring,"  she  replied, 
waving  it  away,  "and  I  wrote  you  that  everything  was 
at  an  end  between  us;  that  I  would  not  be  bound  to 
you  any  longer." 

"But  you  are  bound — you  have  given  me  your 
promise." 

"I  have  taken  back  that  promise." 

"Why?" 

"Because — oh  !  for  many  reasons.  I  have  my  course 
to  finish ;  I  mean  to  put  my  best  work  into  the  coming 
year,  and  I  will  not  be  hampered  in  any  such  way," 
resolutely  returned  Sadie,  who  was  fast  recovering 
her  self-possession. 

"No;  it  is  because  that  preaching,  sanctimonious 
Katherine  Minturn  has  influenced  you  against  me," 
hotly  retorted  her  companion. 

"Katherine  Minturn  is  the  dearest,  loveliest,  sweetest 
girl  in  the  world,  and  I  won't  hear  one  word  against 
her,"  said  Sadie,  in  stout  defense  of  her  friend. 

"Well,  what  are  some  of  your  other  'many  reasons'?" 
demanded  Mr.  Willard,  and  quickly  retreating  from 
w7hat  he  saw  was  dangerous  ground. 

"I — reckon  I'm  under  no  obligation  to  give  them," 
slowly  returned  the  girl,  after  a  moment  of  thought. 
"It  is  sufficient  that  I  have  decided  to  end  everything. 


284  KATHERINE'S 

Now  please  let  that  settle  it  and  don't  try  to  see  me 
again." 

"Don't  you  care  for  me  any  more,  Sadie?  What 
have  I  done  ?  What  fault  have  you  to  find  with  me  ?" 

"Have  you  no  fault  to  find  with  yourself,  Ned  Will- 
ard?  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  life  you  are  living?" 
gravely  inquired  Sadie,  but  ignoring  his  queries. 

"But  you  would  be  the  making  of  me,  Sadie.  Under 
your  influence  I  could  be  anything — everything  you 
could  wish."  v.^ 

"Well,  now — doesn't  that  strike  you  as  rather  a 
weak  argument  for  a  man  to  offer  for  himself?"  re- 
turned his  companion,  lapsing  into  her  Southern  drawl 
which,  of  late,  had  not  been  so  prominent ;  "to  ask  a 
girl  to  bind  herself  irrevocably  to  him  for  life  and 
holding  out  as  an  inducement  the  privilege  of  reform- 
ing him?"  and  there  was  a  note  of  scorn  in  the  lazy 
tones  that  stung  the  man  to  sudden  anger. 

"I  swear  I  will  not  be  trifled  with  in  any  such  way," 
he  passionately  exclaimed.  "You  shall  rue  your  words, 
Sadie  Minot ' 

"I  reckon  I'd  better  go  in,"  she  interrupted,  and 
turned  haughtily  from  him. 

"You  won't  go  in  yet,"  he  said,  through  tightly  shut 
teeth,  as  he  placed  himself  in  her  path.  "I'll  see  if " 

At  that  instant  voices  were  heard,  and,  turning, 
both  saw  Katherine,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Stanley, 
mounting  the  steps  leading  to  the  veranda. 

With  a  half  audible  imprecation,  the  baffled  intruder 
sprang  upon  the  railing  and  vaulted  over. 

But  his  foot  becoming  entangled  in  the  vines  trail- 
ing there  caused  him  to  fall  heavily  to  the  ground, 


SHEAVES  285 

where,  after  one  sharp  cry  of  agony,  he  lay  silent  and 
motionless. 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  record  it,  Sadie  was 
kneeling  beside  him,  while  her  friends  followed  closely 
after. 

"I  will  call  the  coachman.  We  must  get  him  into 
the  house  immediately,"  said  Katherine,  who  was  in- 
tent only  upon  giving  instant  succor  to  the  injured 
man. 

"No,"  vetoed  Dr.  Stanley,  authoritatively,  "he  must 
not  be  taken  in  here.  You  may  call  help,  however, 
and  I  will  have  him  carried  to  my  room,  where  I  will 
ascertain  how  seriously  he  is  injured,  then  we  can 
decide  what  further  disposition  to  make  of  him." 

The  coachman  and  hostler  were  summoned,  and  the 
unconscious  man  was  borne  to  the  Hunt  cottage  and 
laid  upon  Phillip  Stanley's  bed.  Here  an  examination 
revealed  that  the  left  leg  had  been  broken  above  the 
knee;  but,  before  an  hour  had  passed,  this  was  skill- 
fully set  and  the  patient  made  as  comfortable  as  pos- 
sible for  the  night. 

Dr.  Stanley  would  not  permit  his  sister  to  be  incon- 
venienced in  any  way  by  this  addition  to  their  family, 
but  took  it  upon  himself  to  minister  to  the  sufferer's  re- 
quirements, which  he  did  with  all  the  ease  and  skill 
of  a  trained  nurse. 

During  the  first  day  or  two  the  young  man  preserved 
a  sullen  silence ;  but  as  his  attendant  manifested  only 
good  will  and  invariably  treated  him  with  the  utmost 
courtesy  and  kindness,  his  reserve  gradually  wore 
away  and  he  became  more  communicative. 

"This  has  proved  a  pretty  unlucky  trip  for  me,"  he 


286  KATHERINE'S 

observed,  on  the  third  morning  after  the  accident,  and 
thus  introducing  a  subject  which  Dr.  Stanley  had 
studiously  avoided. 

"Possibly;  but  you  are  coming  on  all  right.  You 
have  had  no  fever,  no  pain,"  the  physician  replied. 

"No,  and  T  don't  understand  that  part  of  it  at  all," 
remarked  his  patient,  thoughtfully.  "I  have  always 
supposed  it  was  a  terrible  experience  to  have  a  broken 
bone  set." 

"Well,  Willard,  I  have  a  confession  to  make  to  you 
about  that,"  his  companion  returned ;  "you  were  in  such 
a  state  of  collapse  Tuesday  night  I  felt  you  were  unfit 
to  decide  any  question  for  yourself,  and,  as  I  had  no 
anaesthetics  at  hand,  I  asked  Mrs.  Minturn  to  give  you 
a  Christian  Science  treatment  while  I  performed  my 
duties,  and  since  then  I  have  been  trying  to  work,  un- 
der her  direction,  to  keep  the  claims  of  inflammation 
and  fever  from  manifesting  themselves." 

"Christian  Science !"  repeated  the  patient,  with  a 
short  laugh.  "Well,  I've  heard  that  it  would  do  great 
things,  but  I  never  took  any  stock  in  it ;  it  seemed  like 
so  much  twaddle  to  me.  You  are  sure  you're  not  guy- 
ing me,  doctor?" 

"Indeed,  I  am  not ;  you  can  rely  on  what  I  have  told 
you." 

"All  right;  the  method  doesn't  signify,  so  long  as  I 
was  spared  the  pain." 

"Then,  are  you  willing  to  keep  on  under  the  same 
treatment?"  inquired  his  companion. 

"I'll  be  blamed !  I  believe  you're  turning  Scientist 
yourself!"  exclaimed  Willard,  with  a  broad  grin. 
"But  it  makes  no  difference  to  me  what  you  do,  so  I 


SHEAVES  287 

get  results.  You're  a  first-class  doctor,  and  would  be 
sure  to  know  if  anything  was  going  wrong.  But — 
confound  the  luck ! — I  don't  want  to  be  laid  up  here 
for  three  months,"  he  concluded,  impatiently. 

"There  will  be  no  need  of  that.  I  think  by  the  end 
of  another  week  you  can  be  put  upon  a  Pullman  and 
go  home,"  was  the  encouraging  response. 

"Home !"  was  the  bitter  retort.  "You  know  I  can't 
go  there,  Stanley." 

"Well,  you  are  going  to  be  well  taken  care  of,  any- 
way. I  shall  attend  to  that,"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  kindly. 

"Doc,  you're  O.  K.  You've  been  mighty  good  to 
me,  first  and  last,"  the  patient  observed,  and  flushing 
with  sudden  feeling.  "I  suppose  you  know  what 
brought  me  down  here,"  he  added,  after  a  moment  of 
silence. 

"Yes,  I  know  something  about  it.  You  followed 
Miss  Minot  here." 

"Why  shouldn't  I  follow  her?"  was  the  hot  reply. 
"She  had  promised  to  marry  me." 

"I  understand  that  promise  had  been  revoked." 

"She  had  no  right  to  revoke  it  after  leading  me 
on " 

"Leading  you  on !"  sternly  interrupted  Phillip  Stan- 
ley. "Willard,  don't  add  to  your  other  sins  by  laying 
that  at  the  girl's  door,  when  I've  known  of  your  boasts 
that  before  the  year  was  out  you  'would  have  a  wife 
and  the  handling  of  a  cool  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars.'  " 

"Who  told  you  that?"  demanded  the  young  man, 
with  a  guilty  flush  and  a  shame-faced  air. 


288  KATHERINE'S 

"It  does  not  matter  who  told  me ;  I  have  it  on  good 
authority." 

"But,  Stanley,  I  am  fond  of  her.    I  really  am." 

"Suppose  Alfred  Bent  was  fond  of  your  sister,  Min- 
nie, in  the  same  way,  would  you  like  to  have  him  marry 
her?" 

The  fellow  shrank  as  under  a  lash  and  his  eyes 
blazed. 

"By  thunder — no !"  he  vehemently  returned. 

"But  Alfred  Bent  has  been  your  inseparable  crony 
during  the  last  two  years  that  you  have  wasted,  and 
there  is  very  little  to  choose  between  you.  So  ask 
yourself  if  you  are  fit  to  marry  a  girl  like  Miss  Minot ; 
what  right  you  have  to  ruin  her  life  and  squander  her 
money." 

"I  say,  doc,  you  are  piling  it  on  thick,"  Willard  here 
interposed,  in  an  injured  tone. 

"Yes,  I  know  it  sounds  harsh,  Ned,"  said  the  physi- 
cian, bending  a  grave  though  kindly  look  on  him,  "but, 
in  my  profession,  you  know  we  sometimes  have  to 
probe  and  adopt  severe  measures  before  a  cure  can  be 
effected.  You  also  know,  from  past  experience,  that 
kindness  was  the  only  motive  that  prompted  me  in 
what  I  have  done  and  still  prompts  me  in  what  I  am 
doing;  so,  now  having  come  to  an  enforced  pause  in 
your  career,  I  want  you  to  improve  it  by  doing  some 
serious  thinking.  You  are  a  fellow  of  more  than  or- 
dinary natural  ability,  Ned,  and  have  it  in  your  power 
to  gain  an  enviable  position  in  the  world  if  you  would 
turn  your  talents  in  the  right  direction." 

"You  flatter  me,"  was  the  sarcastic  interruption. 

"I  have  been  telling  you  some  very  plain  truths,  and 


SHEAVES  289 

it  is  only  fair  to  give  credit  also  where  it  is  due,"  said 
his  companion,  in  a  friendly  tone.  "I  am  sure  that 
underneath  your  seeming  recklessness  you  have  not  al- 
ways felt  comfortable  or  satisfied  with  yourself.  You 
are  the  only  son  of  a  fine  father,  who  has  given  you 
every  advantage.  Your  mother  is  one  of  the  'salt 
of  the  earth' ;  but  her  hair  has  been  growing  very  white 
during  the  last  two  years,  and  Minnie — well,  my  heart 
has  often  ached  for  her  as  I  have  noted  the  sad  droop- 
ing of  her  eyes  and  the  grieved  quiver  of  her  lips 
when  she  has  spoken  to  me  of  you." 

"Stanley,  have  you  any  brandy  in  the  house?"  sud- 
denly demanded  Willard,  trying  to  speak  in  his  or- 
dinary tone ;  but  his  companion  saw  that  he  was  white 
to  his  lips,  and  concluded  that  he  had  "probed"  far 
enough  for  the  present. 

"You  are  not  to  have  stimulants  while  you  are  un- 
der treatment,"  was  the  quiet  but  decisive  reply. 

"But,  doc,  I  can't  stand  it.  I  really  can't.  Look!" 
and  he  held  up  a  hand  that  shook  like  a  leaf. 

"You  will  be  better  of  that  shortly,  my  boy.  I'll 
take  care  of  it,"  was  the  kind  reply.  "But" — con- 
fidentially— "while  we  are  talking  of  it,  wouldn't  you 
be  glad  to  have  that  habit  broken — to  be  free?" 

The  poor  fellow  drew  in  a  quick,  sharp  breath ;  then, 
in  a  hard,  metallic  tone,  he  said : 

"I've  thought  a  score  of  times  I  would  be  free ;  that 
I'd  end  it  once  for  all — take  a  last  drink,  you  know, 
with  a  dose  of  strychnine  in  it."  Then,  tossing  back 
the  hair  from  his  forehead,  he  added,  with  an  effort  to 
be  facetious :  "I  wonder  how  your  science  would  work 


290  KATHERINE'S 

on  that  ?  I  say,  Stanley,  are  you  really  turning  Chris- 
tian Scientist  ?"*^«^g» 

Before  his  companion  could  reply,  a  maid  appeared 
in  the  doorway,  bearing  a  tray  on  which  a  tempting 
lunch  was  arranged.  Dr.  Stanley  drew  a  table  beside 
the  bed  and  deftly  placed  things  so  that  his  patient 
could  easily  reach  them ;  then,  at  his  request,  went 
below  to  join  his  sister  and  Dorothy  at  their  repast. 

The  subjects  of  their  recent  conversation  were  not 
resumed,  but,  though  the  physician  was  in  some  doubt 
regarding  the  impression  made  on  the  young  man's 
mind,  it  was  evident  that  he  cherished  no  resentment. 
He  did  not  ask  for  liquor  again,  either,  though  there 
were  times  when  a  certain  look  in  his  eyes  warned  his 
watchful  attendant  that  the  old  craving  was  making 
itself  felt  and  caused  him  to  flee  to  his  "little  book" 
and  work  vigorously  on  this  first  venture,  which,  with 
Mrs.  Minturn's  assistance,  he  was  making  in  Christian 
Science. 

One  day,  having  made  his  charge  comfortable  and 
supplied  him  with  an  entertaining  book  to  read,  Dr. 
Stanley  sought  the  companionship  of  his  sister  and 
Dorothy,  on  the  broad  piazza,  where  they  now  almost 
lived  when  the  weather  was  fine. 

"See !  Uncle  Phil,"  cried  his  niece,  the  moment  he 
appeared,  and  holding  up  some  work  for  his  inspection, 
"mamma  is  teaching  me  to  fagot  and  hemstitch,  and  I 
am  going  to  make  some  pretty  collars  like  hers,"  and 
the  eager  tone  and  sparkling  eyes  told  how  deeply  in- 
terested the  girl  was  in  the  novel  employment. 

The  hitherto  sunken  cheeks  were  beginning  to  as- 
sume a  graceful  contour;  the  lips  had  taken  on  a  de- 


SHEAVES  291 

cided  tinge  of  scarlet,  while  an  unaccustomed  vigor  in 
all  her  movements  told  of  daily  increasing  strength, 
and  the  cheery  ring  in  her  voice  was  like  music  to  lov- 
ing hearts. 

The  man  bent  down  to  inspect  the  small  piece  of 
linen  and  the  dainty  stitches,  his  face  all  aglow  with 
inward  thanksgiving  as  he  praised  her  work. 

"We  will  have  you  turning  dressmaker  next  and 
setting  up  an  establishment  for  yourself,"  he  observed, 
in  a  sportive  tone. 

"Well,  why  not?"  she  gayly  retorted.  "If  I  took  a 
notion  to  learn  dressmaking,  I  am  sure  I  could  do  it. 
But" — more  gravely — "I  am  going  to  study  like  every- 
thing this  winter  and  make  up  for  lost  time.  Mamma 
and  I  have  been  talking  it  over,  and  she  thinks  I  can 
begin  the  regular  course  if  I  want  to.  I  do,  and  I 
mean  to  go  through  and  graduate  like  any  other 
student." 

"Indeed !    We  are  making  great  plans,  aren't  we  ?" 

"Yes,  I  know  it  sounds  big  for  me ;  but  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  says  'there  is  nothing  we  cannot  do  if  we  do  not 
limit  God,'  and  Miss  Katherine  says " 

"Well,  what  does  Miss  Katherine  say?"  queried  her 
uncle,  in  an  eager  tone,  as  Dorothy  paused  to  count 
the  threads  she  was  taking  on  her  needle. 

She  looked  up  quickly  into  his  face,  his  tone  having 
attracted  her. 

"I  guess  you  think  she  is  pretty  nice,  too,"  she  ob- 
served, naively. 

"What  has  put  that  idea  into  your  small  head  ?" 

"Oh !  the  way  you  speak  of  her  and  look  at  her 


292  KATHERINE'S 

sometimes,  and — well,  of  course" — with  an  apprecia- 
tive sigh — "anybody  couldn't  help  loving  her." 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  what  she  said,"  persisted 
the  man,  but  feeling  the  color  mounting  in  his  face  as 
he  caught  the  merry  gleam  in  his  sister's  eyes. 

"Oh !  she  said  that  'God  being  the  only  intelligence, 
man  reflects  that  intelligence,  and  there  is  nothing  we 
cannot  learn  if  we  keep  that  in  our  thought  as  we 
study' ;  so  you  see,  it  is  all  right  for  me  to  plan  to  go 
through  college  if  I  want  to,"  and  the  tone  indicated 
that  the  matter  was  settled. 

"  'Thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and 
prudent  and  hast  revealed  them  unto  babes,'  "  quoted 
Phillip  Stanley  to  himself,  as  he  stooped  to  recover  a 
spool  that  rolled  from  Mrs.  Seabrook's  lap. 

At  the  same  moment  the  sound  of  wheels  fen  upon 
their  ears;  the  next,  a  carriage  stopped  before  their 
door  and  a  stalwart  figure  leaped  to  the  ground. 

"Papa !"  "William !"  fell  simultaneously  from  the 
lips  of  the  mother  and  daughter — one  with  a  ring  of 
triumph  in  her  voice,  the  other  with  a  note  of  intense 
yearning  in  her  tones. 

The  man  caught  his  wife  to  his  breast. 

"Sweetheart,  it  is  joy  to  hold  you  here  once  more," 
he  breathed,  as  their  lips  met ;  and  she  knew  there  was 
no  cloud  between  them. 

Then  he  turned  and  knelt  beside  his  child,  folding 
her  in  a  long,  silent  embrace. 

One  swift  glance  into  her  bright,  eager,  happy  face 
had  told  him  a  story  that  thrilled  his  soul  and  made 
him,  for  the  moment,  dumb. 

"Papa,  you  can  see,  can't  you? — and  you  are  glad, 


SHEAVES  293 

aren't  you?"  Dorothy  at  length  observed,  as  she  lifted 
wet  but  joyful  eyes  to  his  bronzed  face. 

"Darling,  I  can  see,  and  I  am  more  than  'glad,' "  he 
returned,  in  a  husky  tone,  as  he  gently  released  her, 
then  arose  to  greet  his  brother-in-law. 

"Phillip,  old  boy,  it  is  good  to  be  home  again,"  he 
said,  as  he  clasped  the  outstretched  hand,  and  the 
hearty  grip  told  the  younger  man  that  there  would  be 
no  controversy  between  them  over  a  previously  mooted 
question,  while  he  was  strangely  touched,  when  he 
added,  with  a  smile  that  was  somewhat  tremulous : 

"The  cane  is  here,  Phil,  and  at  your  disposal." 

"What  is  that  about  a  cane,  papa?"  cried  Dorothy, 
whose  quick  ears  had  caught  what  he  had  said. 

''T  ~ked  your  father  to  bring  me  a  nice  cane  from 
abnx,a,"  her  uncle  explained. 

"Well,  papa,"  the  girl  pursued,  "I  hope  it  is  a  very 
handsome  one,  and  that  you  will  make  him  a  present 
of  it,  for  you  can  never  know  how  good  Uncle  Phil 
has  been  to  us." 

Both  gentlemen  laughed,  and  were  glad  of  the  op- 
portunity to  give  vent  in  this  way  to  their  pent-up 
emotions. 

"All  right,  Dorrie;  and  when  you  see  it  you  shall  be 
the  judge  whether  it  is  fine  enough,"  replied  the  pro- 
fessor, as  he  turned  again  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the 
wonderful  change  in  her. 

A  little  later  the  lunch  bell  sounded,  and  the  happy 
quartet  went  within  to  break  bread  together,  for  the 
first  time  in  two  long  months.  But  one  of  the  number 
could  only  make  a  pretense  at  eating — his  heart  was 
too  full  to  allow  him  to  do  much  but  covertly  watch 


294  KATHERINE'S 

his  child,  who  was  vigorously  plying  knife  and  fork 
and  manifesting  the  appreciative  appetite  of  a  normally 
hungry  girl. 

Of  course,  there  was  much  to  tell  and  talk  over,  and 
the  afternoon  slipped  swiftly  away,  twilight  coming 
upon  them  almost  before  "the  half  had  been  told." 

The  subject  of  Christian  Science  had  been  mutually 
avoided,  and  was  not  referred  to  until  after  dinner, 
when  Mrs.  Minturn  came  in  for  her  usual  visit  to 
Dorothy. 

Prof.  Seabrook  had  never  met  her  but  once,  and  that 
was  when  she  had  visited  Hilton  to  apply  for  Kath- 
erine's  admission  to  the  school.  But  he  recognized 
her  instantly,  and  greeted  her  with  the  utmost  cor- 
diality. 

When  her  interview  with  Dorothy  was  over  and  she 
rejoined  the  group  in  the  parlor,  he  invited  her  to  be 
seated  and  placed  a  chair  for  her. 

"But  this  is  your  first  evening  with  your  dear  ones, 
and  they  should  have  the  privilege  of  monopolizing 
you,"  she  objected,  with  her  charming  smile. 

"Nay,  there  are  some  things  that  must  be  said,  you 
know,  and  they,  I  am  sure,  are  longing  to  hear  them," 
he  returned,  with  visible  emotion.  "First,  I  have  no 
words  adequate  to  express  my  gratitude  for  what  you 
have  done  for  my  child." 

"Not  what  I  have  done,"  the  lady  interposed,  with 
gentle  emphasis. 

"I  understand — and  I  have  been  trying  to  thank 
God  every  moment  since  my  return,"  he  said,  "but  you 
claim  to  be  His  messenger,  or  instrument,  and  surely 
we  cannot  ignore  that  fact.  I  left  Dorrie  pale  and 


SHEAVES  295 

wasted  to  a  mere  shadow,  scarcely  able  to  move  or 
help  herself  in  any  way.  I  find  to-day  a  bright,  ani- 
mated girl,  rapidly  taking  on  flesh  and  strength,  sitting 
upright  in  her  chair — sewing!  How  the  wonder  has 
been  accomplished  is  beyond  my  comprehension.  I 
had  previously  vetoed  Christian  Science  treatment;  to 
be  frank,  I  contemptuously  repudiated  it.  I  can  no 
longer  hold  it  in  derision,  neither  can  I  say  that  my 
attitude  towards  it,  as  a  science,  or  a  religion,  has 
changed." 

"That  is  yet  to  come,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn,  smiling, 
as  he  paused. 

"I  have  read  your  text-book,"  he  resumed,  "but  with 
a  critical  frame  of  mind  that  has  been  termed  'eccle- 
siastical and  intellectual  pride'  " — this  with  a  quizzical 
glance  at  his  brother,  who  nodded  back  a  sharp  as- 
sent— "and  I  could  or  would  find  nothing  good  in  it. 
To  me  it  seemed  atheistic,  fallacious,  heretical.  You 
perceive  I  am  not  sparing  myself  in  these  admissions," 
he  interposed,  "but  I  have  been  doing  some  serious 
thinking  during  my  return  voyage,  and  now  I  am  go- 
ing to  read  that  book  again ;  not  to  criticise,  but  to  get 
at  its  true  inwardness  if  I  can." 

"That  is  a  spirit  that  will  surely  bring  its  own  re- 
ward," Mrs.  Minturn  responded,  her  face  luminous 
with  admiration  for  the  frank  and  conscientious  ac- 
knowledgment which  the  man  had  made. 

Mrs.  Seabrook  turned  glad  eyes  upon  her  husband. 

"And,  William,  we  will  have  her  keep  on  with  the 
treatment,  will  we  not?" 

"Assuredly;  one  could  never  have  the  heart  to  stop 
the  good  work,  even  though  one  may  not  comprehend 


296  KATHERINE'S 

the  method,"  he  heartily  responded,  and  the  happy  wife 
and  mother  heaved  a  sigh  of  supreme  content. 

They  talked  on  for  a  while  longer,  then  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  gracefully  took  her  leave  and  went  home  to  tell 
Katherine  that  another  prodigal  was  on  his  way  to  his 
Father's  house. 


SHEAVES  297 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

Phillip  Stanley's  First  Demonstration. 

A  week  after  the  return  of  Prof.  Seabrook,  Dr.  Stan- 
ley ventured  to  transfer  his  patient  to  his  native  city. 
He  was  desirous  of  getting  him  away  before  the  gen- 
eral flitting  back  to  Hilton,  in  order  to  prevent  awk- 
ward meetings  and  complications. 

The  young  man  had  improved  steadily,  and  his  phy- 
sician had  found  him,  as  a  rule,  very  patient  and  tract- 
able. He  avoided  talking  about  himself,  and  never 
again  referred  to  the  conversation  that  had  occurred  a 
few  days  after  his  accident.  He  read  a  great  deal, 
conversed  freely  of  politics,  current  events,  etc.,  and 
evidently  tried  to  cause  as  little  trouble  as  possible. 

He  was  often  seriously  thoughtful,  a  circumstance 
which  his  observant  attendant  regarded  as  a  favorable 
indication,  while,  now  and  then,  he  would  drop  a  word 
that  betrayed  his  appreciation  of  the  rare  kindness  he 
was  receiving.  In  arranging  for  his  transportation 
Dr.  Stanley  neglected  nothing  that  would  contribute  to 
his  comfort,  and  he  made  the  trip  without  the  slightest 
inconvenience,  although  he  betrayed  a  sense  of  restless- 
ness as  he  neared  his  destination,  for  he  had  not  even 
asked  what  was  to  become  of  him  upon  his  arrival, 
and  could  not  quite  conceal  his  anxiety  on  that  point. 

When  he  was  lifted  out  upon  the  platform  at  the 


298  KATHERINE'S 

station,  in  his  own  city,  his  astonished  glance  fell  first 
upon  his  sister,  a  sweet  girl  of  seventeen,  then  upon 
his  father,  both  of  whom  greeted  him  as  if  there  had 
never  been  a  barrier  between  them. 

He  flushed  a  remorseful  scarlet  and  lifted  an  in- 
quiring look  to  Dr.  Stanley. 

"Yes,  Ned,  I  plead  guilty,"  he  smilingly  confessed. 
"I  did  not  feel  justified  in  keeping  your  family  in  ig- 
norance of  your  condition,  and  Mr.  Willard  telegraphed 
me  that  he  would  meet  us  on  our  arrival." 

"And,  Ned,  we  have  everything  so  nicely  fixed  for 
you  at  home,"  his  sister  here  interposed,  for  she  saw 
he  was  half  dazed  by  the  unexpected  meeting.  "Brid- 
get— the  same  old  girl — and  I  have  put  your  room  in 
apple-pie  order;  your  books  and  pictures  just  as  you 
used  to  have  them,  and" — with  a  ripple  of  musical 
laughter — "you  are  going  to  have  cream  toast  with 
your  dinner.  It  was  your  favorite  dish,  you  know,  and 
mamma  is  making  it  herself.  She  wouldn't  trust  any- 
body else,  for  fear  there  would  be  lumps  in  it.  But 
here  come  the  men,"  she  concluded,  cutting  herself 
short,  as  two  muscular  fellows  rame  forward  to  trans- 
fer the  bamboo  litter  to  a  waiting  ambulance. 

"And  I  will  come  around  in  the  morning  to  take  a 
look  at  that  cast.  I  think  we'll  have  it  off  altogether 
before  long,"  observed  Dr.  Stanley,  as  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  take  leave  of  his  patient,  who  could  only  wring 
it  in  silence.  Then  he  was  borne  away. 

When  the  Seabrooks  and  Katherine  arrived  at  Hil- 
ton, on  the  day  previous  to  the  opening  of  the  school, 
they  were  joyfully  welcomed  by  Jennie,  who  not  only 
had  everything  in  order  for  the  principal  and  his  fam- 


SHEAVES  299 

ily,  but  had,  with  loving  hands,  also  made  Katherine 
and  Sadie's  room  immaculate  and  gorgeously  decorated 
it  with  autumn  leaves  and  golden-rod  in  honor  of  their 
return. 

Katherine  could  see  that  the  girl's  recent  trying  ex- 
perience had  subdued  her  somewhat ;  but,  otherwise, 
she  was  the  same  original,  irrepressible  Jennie  as  ever. 

"How  I  love  you !"  she  cried,  when  she  was  left 
alone  with  Katherine,  while  Sadie  was  out  of  the  room 
for  a  few  moments,  and  supplementing  her  statement 
with  another  vigorous  hug.  "And  you  look  dearer 
than  ever,  if  that  could  be  possible;  and  what  a  fine 
time  you've  all  been  having  down  there  by  the  sea! 
Dr.  Stanley  has  told  me  all  about  it,  and" — with  a 
grimace — "I  guess  you've  been  busy,  too,  doctoring 
some  of  the  materia  medica  out  of  him — eh?" 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  Katherine  inquired,  but  flush- 
ing under  the  fire  of  the  girl's  mischievous  eyes. 

"Oh!  he  doesn't  make  any  bones  of  it;  he  told  me 
all  about  Dorothy — how  sick  she  was,  and  what  your 
mother  did  for  her,  though  he  said,  of  course,  it  must 
not  be  talked 'here.  I  suppose  he  made  an  exception 
of  me,  because  he  knows  how  I  love  the  Seabrooks 
and  you,  and  then  I  can  see  for  myself  how  flip  he  is 
with  the  'new  tongue.'  " 

"Jennie!"  exclaimed  Katherine,  in  a  shocked  tone. 
Then  she  added :  "What  do  you  know  about  the  'new 
tongue'  ?" 

"I'm  always  saying  the  wrong  thing,"  said  the  girl, 
in  a  repentant  voice;  "but,  truly,  I  didn't  mean  to  be 
irreverent — I  only  wanted  you  to  know  how  pat  the 
doctor  reels  off  the  scientific  phrases ;  and" — assuming 


300  KATHERINE'S 

an  important  air — "I  guess  I  know  that  Christian  Sci- 
ence is  the  'new  tongue'  spoken  of  in  the  Bible.  I've 
been  to  the  service  all  summer;  auntie  went  with  me, 
too,  and  thought  it  was  beautiful" — this  with  a  sudden 
break  in  her  voice — "and  I've  got  the  book,"  she  re- 
sumed. "I  bought  it  with  my  pin-money.  One  of  the 
Scientists  was  going  to  get  a  revised  pocket  edition, 
and  said  she'd  let  me  have  her  old  one  for  half  price. 
She  said  the  Science  is  all  in  it,  and  so  I  thought  it 
would  do  until  I  could  afford  to  buy  a  new  one." 

Katherine's  eyes  grew  moist  as  she  listened  to  this, 
and  she  told  herself  that  the  dear  child  should  also 
have  a  new  revised  pocket  edition  when  Christmas 
came. 

Looking  back  over  the  months  that  had  elapsed  since 
she  first  came  to  Hilton,  she  was  almost  overwhelmed, 
in  view  of  the  changed  thought  that  had  crept  into  the 
school.  She  had  sown  but  the  tiniest  seed  of  Truth 
when  she  had  told  Prof.  Seabrook  that  "Christian  Sci- 
ence was  a  religion  of  Love  and  she  would  simply  try 
to  live  it" ;  but  its  rootlets  had  taken  firm  hold  beneath 
the  surface  of  an  unpromising  soil ;  its  germ  had  shot 
upwards  and  flourished,  in  spite  of  an  adverse  atmos- 
phere, spreading  abroad  its  branches  with  bud  and 
blossom  and  fruitage,  until  now  a  goodly  harvest  was 
being  gathered  in.  There  were  Miss  Reynolds,  Mrs. 
Seabrook  and  Dorothy,  Jennie  and  Dr.  Stanley,  all 
ready  to  avow  themselves  as  adherents  of  Truth,  with 
Sadie,  Prof.  Seabrook  and — she  was  beginning  to 
hope — Ned  Willard  looking  towards  the  Light;  and 
her  heart  was  flooded  with  a  great  joy. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about,  Miss  Minturn  ?"  Jen- 


SHEAVES  301 

nie  ventured  to  inquire  when  she  had  borne  the  silence 
as  long  as  she  could. 

Katherine  came  to  herself  with  a  sudden  start. 

"Excuse  me,  dear,"  she  said,  with  a  deprecatory 
smile.  "But  what  you  have  just  told  me  sent  my 
thoughts  wandering  back  over  all  that  has  happened 
since  I  came  here  last  winter.  I  did  not  mean  to  be 
heedless,  and  I  am  very  glad  that  you  wanted  the  book 
enough  to  buy  it.  Now" — laying  a  fond  hand  on  her 
shoulder — "you  are  to  drop  'Miss  Minturn'  here  and 
now.  You  and  I  are  going  to  be  like  sisters — we  are 
sisters  in  Truth  already,  for  you  are  coming  to  us  after 
this  for  all  your  vacations.  You  must  have  a  home, 
you  know,  and  I  think  you  will  be  happy  with  us." 

"Happy !"  cried  Jennie,  choking  up  suddenly.  "Why, 
I — I — think  it  will  be  just  h — hea — venly  !"  and  down 
went  the  curly  black  head  upon  her  hands  to  hide  the 
tears  she  could  not  wipe  away,  for,  as  was  frequently 
the  case,  her  handkerchief  was  not  forthcoming  when 
most  needed. 

Katherine  slipped  hers  into  her  hand,  for  she  heard 
Sadie  returning,  and,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  three 
girls  were  engaged  in  an  animated  discussion  of  plans 
for  the  coming  year. 

The  school  opened  with  a  full  house  again;  indeed, 
it  was  more  than  full,  for  Prof.  Seabrook  was  obliged 
to  secure  rooms  for  half  a  dozen  new  pupils  with  some 
families  outside,  and  began  to  seriously  consider  the 
advisability  of  extending  the  wings  of  the  building 
before  the  beginning  of  another  year. 

We  cannot  follow  the  experiences  of  our  friends 
during  the  ensuing  ten  months,  in  detail ;  and,  in  fact, 


302  KATHERINE'S 

but  little  out  of  the  ordinary  occurred  to  mark  their 
passing. 

It  will  be  of  interest,  perhaps,  to  know  that  Prof. 
Seabrook,  true  to  his  word,  made  a  careful  perusal  of 
"Science  and  Health,"  but  he  did  not  find  it  easy  to  get 
out  of  old  ruts,  and  there  was  many  a  hard-fought 
battle  with  preconceived  opinions  and  long-treasured 
creeds  and  doctrines.  Many  a  time  he  threw  down  his 
book  with  a  revival  of  his  old  antagonism,  but  a  look 
at  Dorrie — whose  general  health  had  become  almost 
perfect,  and  who  was  now  manifesting  the  keenest  in- 
terest in  the  studies  which  she  had  insisted  upon  taking 
up — was  like  a  "peace,  be  still"  to  the  tempest  and  oil 
upon  the  turbulent  waters,  and  he  resumed  his  in- 
vestigations with  such  determination  to  know  the 
Truth,  that,  finally,  he  was  enabled  to  say  with  one  of 
old,  "I  begin  to  see  as  through  a  glass  darkly." 

Miss  Reynolds  became  a  greater  power  than  ever  in 
the  school.  She  had  always  been  attractive,  and  the 
students  loved  her,  but  now  there  was  an  added  charm 
and  sweetness  that  irresistibly  drew  everyone  to  her. 
She  made  no  secret  of  the  change  in  her  views,  al- 
though she  never  forced  them  upon  anyone.  She  at- 
tended the  service  on  Grove  Street  regularly,  with 
Katherine,  and  Jennie  also  was  numbered  with  the 
same  congregation. 

Dr.  Stanley  found  his  position  unique  and  by  no 
means  an  enviable  one.  Before  going  abroad  he  had 
built  up  a  fine  practice,  and  most  of  his  patients  came 
back  to  him  on  his  return,  while  new  ones  had  flocked 
to  him.  Now,  however,  with  his  changed  thought,  he 
found  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  decide  just  what 


SHEAVES  303 

course  to  pursue,  when  those  who,  hitherto,  had  placed 
unbounded  confidence  in  him  now  called  upon  him  to 
minister  again  to  their  necessities. 

But  he  had  chosen  his  path.  Having  become  con- 
vinced that  God  and  God  alone  "forgiveth  all  iniquities 
and  healeth  all  diseases,"  he  had  declared  that  he  would 
never  again  diagnose  a  case  in  accord  with  the  laws  of 
materia  medico,  write  another  medical  prescription,  or 
deal  out  ineffectual  drugs.  Neither  did  he,  as  yet, 
feel  that  he  was  prepared  to  announce  himself  a  Chris- 
tian Science  practitioner.  So,  when  called  to  his 
former  patients,  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  state  his 
position  and,  as  an  "entering  wedge,"  suggest  that 
they  give  the  Science  a  trial  for  their  infirmities.  Some 
had  openly  scoffed  at  him;  others  had  acted  upon  his 
advice,  and  were  greatly  benefited ;  while,  in  a  few  in- 
stances, he  had  offered  to  try  what  he  himself  could 
do,  and,  to  his  great  joy,  had  made  his  demonstration. 
But  the  majority  dropped  him  and  went  over  to  rival 
practitioners. 

Then  he  began  to  push  out  into  the  byways  and 
hedges.  He  sought  out  the  suffering  poor  more  than 
he  had  ever  done  before,  and  here  he  found  a  field 
"ready  to  harvest,"  where  he  could  preach  the  "new 
gospel"  and  prove  the  promise,  "The  works  that  I  do 
shall  ye  do  also  if  ye  believe  on  Me." 

So  the  growth  in  his  own  consciousness  went  on 
while  he  was  "casting  his  bread  upon  the  waters,"  and 
he  also  might  have  been  seen,  nearly  every  Sunday 
morning,  in  one  of  the  rear  seats  in  the  hall  on  Grove 
Street,  listening  intently  to  the  service. 

One  supreme  joy  came  to  him  during  this  time. 


304  KATHERINE'S 

Ned  Willard's  improvement  had  been  phenomenally 
rapid  after  his  return  home,  and,  to  his  family,  the 
change  in  himself  appeared  no  less  remarkable. 

He  was  now  always  considerate  of  and  courteous  to 
every  member  of  the  household,  frequently  expressing 
grateful  appreciation  of  their  care  and  kindness,  while 
an  oath,  which  once  had  been  a  frequent  offense  to  their 
ears,  was  now  never  heard  to  pass  his  lips. 

One  morning,  while  making  his  accustomed  visit, 
Dr.  Stanley  observed  that  his  patient  was  strangely 
silent  and  thoughtful,  seeming  disinclined  to  talk,  al- 
though he  suggested  several  topics  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion. He  was  just  on  the  point  of  rising  to  go,  think- 
ing it  wiser  to  leave  him  to  his  mood,  when  he  sud- 
denly broke  forth : 

"I  say,  Stanley,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  me?" 

"  'Doing  to  you !'  I  am  not  sure  that  I  catch  your 
meaning." 

"Well,  when  I  tumbled  helplessly  into  your  hands, 
down  there  in  Massachusetts,  you  told  me  you  were 
using  Christian  Science  treatment,  and  asked  me  if  I 
objected.  I  thought  it  all  'bosh';  but,  as  you  know, 
told  you  I  didn't  care,  provided  the  method  brought 
right  results.  I  thought  that  if  things  did  not  go  O.  K. 
you  would  slip  back  to  the  old  way,  so  I  felt  perfectly 
safe.  But  now  I  begin  to  feel  some  curiosity  regard- 
ing this  peculiar  mode,  process,  or  whatever  it  may  be, 
for  not  only  has  my  leg  got  well — it  is  practically  well 
— quicker  than  I  supposed  it  possible  for  a  broken  bone 
to  mend,  but  I  feel  mended  in  other  ways,"  he  con- 
cluded, with  some  embarrassment. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Ned?" 


SHEAVES  305 

"Well,  physically,  I  feel  like  a  new  man — kind  of 
clean  and  fresh,  through  and  through.  Then" — flush- 
ing— "I  am  amazed  that  I  haven't  been  crazy  for 
drink ;  but  I  do  not  seem  to  want  it — I  do  not  even  care 
to  smoke,  and " 

"Yes,"  said  his  companion,  kindly. 

"Oh !  hang  it !  Stanley,  it  isn't  easy  to  tell  it,  but 
I'm  going  to;  I  feel  as  if  an  X-ray  had  been  turned 
upon  my  mentality,  showing  me  what  a  blamed  fool 
I've  made  of  myself  during  the  last  few  years,  making 
me  wish  I  could  blot  it  all  out  and  take  a  sharp  turn 
in  another  direction.  How's  that  for  humble  pie!  I 
declare,  I  don't  know  myself !"  he  concluded,  apolo- 
getically. 

Dr.  Stanley  was  literally  stricken  speechless.  His 
heart  was  too  full  for  utterance.  Surely  this  "fruit 
of  the  Spirit"  was  ripening  far  earlier  than  he  had 
dared  to  hope,  although  he  had  worked  on  the  case 
with  all  the  understanding  he  possessed,  in  connection 
with  frequent  correspondence  with  Mrs.  Minturn  for 
counsel. 

"What  have  you  been  doing,  doc?"  Willard  re- 
peated. "I've  heard  that  Christian  Science  treatment 
is  wholly  mental,  but  you  have  been  doing  some  fine 
talking,  first  and  last.  Some  of  it  has  cut  home  and 
some  has  gone  over  my  head.  Does  your  science  re- 
form the  drunkard  as  well  as  mend  broken  bones?  I 
remember  you  once  asked  me  if  I'd  like  to  be  freed 
from  it.  Upon  my  word,  I  believe  it  does,  though  I'm 
not  going  to  boast  until  I  get  out  and  can  prove  it. 
Have  you  been  treating  me  for  that,  Stanley?" 

"Yes,  I  have  been  trying  to  make  you  realize  your 


306  KATHERINE'S 

birthright — your  God-given  dominion  over  all  things," 
said  his  friend,  in  a  voice  that  faltered  in  spite  of  him- 
self; "have  tried  to  make  you  know  that  you  were 
'free-born.'  " 

"Hold  on !  Now  you  are  soaring  over  my  head 
again,"  interposed  the  young  man.  "Just  make  that 
clearer  in  your  own  language,  please.  Bible  phrase- 
ology always  seemed  like  Choctaw  to  me." 

"Well,  then,  Christian  Science  teaches  that  God 
made  man  the  perfect  image  and  likeness  of  Himself 
and  gave  him  power  to  reflect  or  manifest  His  domin- 
ion over  all  beings.  It  follows,  then,  that  man  was 
never  in  bondage  to  anything — habit,  appetite,  disease 
or  sin ;  so  he  was  'free-born.'  " 

"Then  how  does  it  happen  we  find  him  so  tangled 
up  in  all  sorts  of  deviltry?"  demanded  Willard. 

"We  find  the  mortal  'tangled  up/  as  you  express  it, 
because  he  has  set  himself  up  as  an  independent  entity 
and  claims  this  entity  can  be  governed  by  evil  instead 
of  good — with  lies  instead  of  truth,  with  sickness  in- 
stead of  health." 

"You  emphasize  the  word  'mortal' ;  so  you  make  a 
distinction  between  a  man  and  a  mortal  ?" 

"Yes;  the  mortal  is  the  counterfeit  of  the  real  man, 
like  a  bogus  dollar  bill,  with  no  gold  or  principal  to 
back  it.  He  arrogantly  assumes  that  he  has  a  will  of 
his  own,  and  this  will  is  subordinate  to  no  other  unless 
he  chooses  to  make  it  so.  But  we  find  that  he  reasons 
falsely  when  we  see  how  he  becomes  the  slave  of  all 
sorts  of  evil  that  ultimates  in  sickness  and  death,"  ex- 
plained Dr.  Stanley. 

"Humph !     Then,  according  to  your  logic,  the  Ned 


SHEAVES  307 

Willard  whom  you  know  is  simply  a  mortal,  physical 
manifestation  of  will  power,  catering  to  his  own  ap- 
petites and  desires,  and  so  becoming  their  bond  servant, 
and  there  is  no  true  image  and  likeness  of  God,  or  real 
man  about  him,"  was  the  young  man's  half-quizzical 
rejoinder.  "Granted,"  he  went  on,  more  seriously,  "I 
think  I  am  beginning  to  see  him  as  he  is  and  has  ap- 
peared to  others.  But  now  comes  the  question,  'How 
is  this  same  Ned  Willard  going  to  get  rid  of  the  unde- 
sirable mortal  and  find  the  man?'  It  looks  a  hopeless 
task  to  me." 

"You  are  using  the  scalpel  very  freely  upon  your- 
self, my  boy,"  said  Phillip  Stanley,  in  his  friendliest 
tone.  "But  let  us  see  if  there  isn't  a  different  kind 
of  blade  that  will  serve  us  better.  If  you  were  cruelly 
bound  with  thongs,  and  some  friend  should  pass  you  a 
keen-edged  knife,  you  would  not  sit  hopelessly  looking 
at  your  bonds  and  still  continue  to  bemoan  your  bond- 
age ;  you  would  instantly  begin  to  sever  the  thongs 
and  so  regain  your  liberty.  In  Christian  Science  we 
find  the  'sword  of  Truth'  with  which  we  begin  to  cut 
away,  one  by  one,  the  bonds  of  mortal  falsities,  habits, 
appetites  and  belief  in  evil  until,  eventually,  we  shall 
find  our  freedom  and  true  manhood." 

"That  sounds  very  promising,  as  you  put  it,  though 
the  how  of  it  seems  rather  vague.  But,  by  all  that's 
honest,  I  would  like  to  get  at  the  secret  of  it,"  and  the 
young  man  turned  a  frank,  earnest  face  to  his  com- 
panion as  he  concluded. 

"This  will  reveal  it.  Will  you  read  it  if  I  leave  it 
with  you?"  and  Dr.  Stanley  drew  forth  a  pocket  edi- 
tion of  "Science  and  Health"  and  laid  it  upon  his  knee. 


308  KATHERINE'S 

Willard  opened  it  and  glanced  at  the  title-page. 

"Thank  you;  I  shall  be  glad  to  look  it  through," 
he  replied. 

"You  will  need  a  Bible  to  go  with  it,"  said  his  com- 
panion, lifting  his  eyes  to  a  bookcase  near  him. 

"You'll  not  find  one  there,"  his  patient  observed, 
with  a  short  laugh.  "Bibles  and  I  have  had  nothing 
in  common  this  many  a  year.  However,  there  are 
plenty  about  the  house." 

Dr.  Stanley  shortly  after  took  his  leave  and  went 
away  to  visit  other  hungry  ones,  a  reverent  joy  in  his 
heart  and  on  his  lips  the  paean  of  David,  "Who  is  so 
great  a  God  as  our  God?" 

A  few  weeks  later  Edwin  Willard  walked  briskly 
into  his  office,  his  handsome  face  all  aglow  with  health, 
a  new  hope  and  purpose  shining  in  his  eyes. 

"I'm  off,  Stanley !"  he  said,  in  cheery,  eager  tones 
as  he  laid  his  friend's  "little  book"  on  his  desk.  "I've 
just  slipped  in  to  return  this  and  bid  you  an  revoir." 

"Off!"  repeated  Phillip  Stanley,  in  surprise.  "Where 
to?  what  for?" 

"I'm  going  to  Washington,  as  private  secretary  to 
the  Hon.  -  — ,  United  States  Senator  from  Pennsyl- 
vania. He  was  a  classmate  of  my  father's  at  Yale,  and 
asked  the  governor,  the  other  day,  if  he  could  suggest 
some  one  for  the  position,"  Willard  explained.  "It's 
very  sudden,  but  it's  great  luck,  though  this" — touch- 
ing the  book  he  had  just  laid  down — "teaches  there's 
no  such  thing  as  luck.  The  salary  won't  permit  me 
to  keep  up  a  spread-eagle  style  at  present" — with  a 
light-hearted  laugh — "but  I  have  a  promise  of  more 
later  on,  and  it  may  be  the  stepping-stone  to  something 


SHEAVES  309 

better ;  and,  Stanley,  I'm  bent  on  going  higher,  in  more 
ways  than  one,"  he  concluded,  in  a  confidential  tone. 

"Ned,  I  am  more  glad  than  I  can  tell  you,  and  my 
best  wishes  go  with  you,"  heartily  returned  his  friend. 
"Wouldn't  you  like  to  take  the  book  along  as  a  sou- 
venir?" he  asked,  pushing  it  towards  him. 

"Thanks,  I've  just  bought  one  for  myself,  and  I  don't 
need  any  souvenirs  to  remind  me  of  you ;  for,  Stanley, 
all  I  am  and  all  I  hope  to  be  I  owe  to  you,  or — I  sup- 
pose you  would  prefer  me  to  say — to  God,  through 
you.  But  if  I  am  to  catch  that  fast  express  I  must 
skip.  I'll  write  to  you,  though,  when  I  am  settled." 

The  two  men  clasped  hands  and  looked  deep  into 
each  other's  eyes  for  a  moment ;  then  the  younger 
turned  abruptly  away  and  left  the  room,  the  elder 
gravely  watching  the  manly  form  as  it  sped,  with  alert 
and  vigorous  steps,  down  the  street. 

"God  bless  the  boy !"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone ;  "he  has 
'got  at  the  secret  of  it'  at  last,  and  his  life  henceforth 
will  be  crowned  with  joy  and  peace." 


3io  KATHERINE'S 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Mrs.  Minturn  Visits  Hilton. 

Everything  moved  along  harmoniously  with  Kath- 
erine  in  school.  Of  course,  there  was  work  to  be  done 
and  it  required  diligence,  patience  and  perseverance  to 
accomplish  her  daily  tasks.  But  there  is  always  satis- 
faction in  overcoming  difficulties,  for  such  conquest 
never  fails  to  strengthen  and  uplift. 

Between  Sadie  and  herself  there  existed  the  tender- 
est  relations.  Every  day  seemed  to  draw  them  closer 
to  each  other,  for  divine  Love  was  now  the  mutually 
acknowledged  bond  between  them.  The  girl  had  pro- 
vided herself  with  the  necessary  books  and  was  doing 
more  than  "looking  towards  the  Light" — she  was  really 
trying  to  walk  in  it.  She  was  also  striving  to  "do  her 
best"  during  this,  her  last  year  at  school,  as  she  had 
avowed  she  would,  and  was  reaping  her  reward  by 
finding  that  she  was  daily  gaining  in  mental  strength 
and  capacity. 

Jennie  also  was  making  good  progress.  She  did 
not  love  fun  and  frolic  one  whit  less,  but  she  now 
sought  it  in  legitimate  hours  and  ways,  and  never  al- 
lowed herself  to  "kick  over  the  traces,"  or,  in  other 
words,  to  break  rules,  and  so  jeopardize  her  record, 
although,  as  she  once  confessed,  with  the  old  mis- 


SHEAVES  311 

chievous  sparkle  in  her  eyes,  "the  apples  of  Sodom  did 
look  very  alluring  sometimes." 

So  the  Christmas  vacation  found  them,  and  Kath- 
erine  and  Jennie  went  "home"  to  New  York  City, 
where  every  day  was  rilled  with  delightful  experiences, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Minturn  having  spared  nothing  to  make 
these  holidays  the  brightest  of  the  year,  especially  for 
their  protegee  whose  pleasures  had  been  so  limited. 

There  was  nothing  to  mar  their  enjoyment  during 
the  two  "heavenly"  weeks.  They  were  like  a  pair  of 
happy  children,  and  not  the  least  of  their  pleasure  con- 
sisted in  helping  Mrs.  Minturn  distribute  her  yearly 
reminders  among  those  of  whom  One  said,  "The  poor 
ye  always  have  with  you."  And  when,  on  Christmas 
morning,  at  breakfast,  the  packages  beside  the  various 
plates  were  inspected,  there  were  bright  faces  and 
loving  smiles,  and  in  one  case  almost  a  rain  of  tears, 
in  view  of  the  numerous  and  lovely  mementoes  for 
which  the  recipient  was  wholly  unprepared.  But  it 
was  only  a  "sunshower,"  and  when  Mr.  Minturn,  with 
a  quizzical  look,  told  her  to  "take  care,  for  she  was 
losing  some  of  her  pearls,"  she  laughingly  wiped  the 
glittering  drops  away  and  retorted : 

"I  wish  they  were  real  pearls,  and  I  would  heap 
them  upon  you  all." 

When  it  was  all  over  and  the  two  girls  were  rolling 
swiftly  on  their  way  back  to  school,  Jennie,  her  face 
radiant  with  delightful  memories,  informed  Katherine 
that  she  had  "never  had  such  an  out  and  out  jolly  time 
in  all  her  life  before." 

"It  is  like  a  diamond  to  me,"  she  said,  "for  it  will 
glisten  and  sparkle  in  my  mind  as  long  as  I  remember 


312  KATHERINE'S 

anything  about  this  life.  But,  best  of  all,"  she  con- 
tinued, earnestly,  "has  been  the  Science  part  of  it; 
those  lovely  services  and  meetings !  and  your  mother's 
talks !  Oh !  Katherine,  if  I  could  be  with  her  all  the 
time  I  know  I  should  grow  to  be  a  good  Scientist !" 

Katherine  smiled  into  the  yearning  dark  eyes. 

"Our  growth,  Jennie,  depends  upon  our  own  right 
thinking  and  living,  upon  the  faithfulness  with  which 
we  study,  assimilate  and  demonstrate  Truth,"  she  said ; 
then  added :  "Right  environment  is  very  desirable,  but 
when  we  lean  upon  that  instead  of  on  God,  or  Prin- 
ciple, we  are  not  'working  out  our  own  salvation,' 
which  everyone  must  do.  You  know  what  happened 
to  the  five  foolish  virgins  who  leaned,  or  tried  to  lean, 
upon  their  neighbors  for  oil  to  fill  their  lamps." 

"Yes ;  and  it's  like  copying  some  one  else's  problems 
and  shirking  your  own  daily  work.  When  the  exams 
come  you're  not  'in  it' ;  you  just  have  to  'go  way  back 
and  sit  down,'  "  and  the  roguish  dimples  played  in  her 
cheeks  as  the  slang  phrases  slipped  glibly  from  her 
tongue.  "All  the  same,"  she  continued,  "it  is  a  help  to 
have  others  about  you  doing  good  work.  Somehow  it 
inspires  you  to  hustle  for  yourself — that  is,  if  you  hon- 
estly want  to  be  the  real  thing  and  not  a  sham." 

The  latter  part  of  February  Mrs.  Minturn,  having 
been  called  to  the  western  part  of  the  State  on  busi- 
ness, stopped  at  Hilton  on  her  way  back,  to  spend  the 
Sabbath  and  make  "my  girls"  a  little  visit. 

That  visit  was  like  an  oasis  to  Prof.  Seabrook,  or, 
as  he  afterwards  expressed  it,  "it  shone  in  his  mem- 
ory like  a  pure,  lustrous  pearl  set  in  jet." 

Saturday  afternoon  was  spent  with  Katherine  and 


SHEAVES  313 

Jennie,  doing  a  little  needful  shopping  and  visiting 
some  places  of  interest  in  the  city.  Saturday  evening, 
a  party,  including  the  Seabrooks,  Sadie,  Miss  Reynolds 
and  Dr.  Stanley,  was  made  up  to  go  to  hear  Madam 
Melba,  who  was  to  sing  in  "Faust,"  and  a  rich  treat  it 
proved  for  them  all. 

Sunday  morning  found  them  all,  except  the  principal 
and  his  wife,  at  the  service  in  the  hall  on  Grove  Street, 
and  which  was  now  far  too  small  to  comfortably  ac- 
commodate the  people  who  were  flocking  to  it;  while 
Sunday  evening,  at  Mrs.  Seabrook's  invitation,  saw 
our  friends  gathered  in  her  spacious  parlor  to  listen  to 
a  little  talk  on  Christian  Science  from  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"I  see  you  each  have  your  book,"  she  began,  glancing 
around  the  circle,  "and  I  think  we  cannot  do  better 
than  to  look  into  the  tenets  of  our  faith — you  will  find 
them  on  page  497.  There  is  much  more  than  at  first 
appears  in  those  few  brief  paragraphs,  and  I  hope  no 
one  will  let  a  point  go  by,  if  it  seems  perplexing, 
without  trying  to  get  at  the  heart  of  it.  Don't  fear  to 
interrupt  me  with  questions,  for  they  will  show  me 
your  trend  of  thought." 

Then,  one  by  one,  she  took  up  the  sections,  which 
were  freely  and  thoughtfully  discussed.  Prof.  Sea- 
brook,  however,  was  the  chief  interlocutor  of  the  even- 
ing and  plied  the  patient  woman  with  queries  both 
practical  and  profound. 

She  met  him  logically  on  every  one,  and  by  the  time 
they  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  fifth  paragraph  much 
of  the  perplexity  had  vanished  from  the  man's  face 
and  a  look  of  peace  was  enthroned  in  its  place,  while 
not  one  in  the  room  ever  forgot  that  hour,  which  was 


3 14  KATHERINE'S 

so  fraught  with  helpfulness  and  intense  interest  to  them 

"Mrs.  Minturn,"  he  gravely  observed,  as  she  paused 
for  a  moment,  "when  one  begins  to  understand  some- 
thing of  what  Christian  Science  really  is,  one  finds 
himself  suddenly  shorn  of  his  former  intellectual  ar- 
rogance and  ecclesiastical  intolerance,  while  he  stands 
abashed  and  is  amazed  that  he  had  never  seen  these 
things  before." 

"That  is  because,  in  our  previous  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, we  were  governed  by  human  opinions,  doctrines 
and  creeds,  instead  of  by  the  spiritual  law  of  inter- 
pretation, which  always  brings  the  proof  of  its  su- 
premacy." 

"But  it  makes  one  wish  one  hadn't  been  quite  so 
pert  in  flaunting  one's  feathers  before  finer  birds," 
drawled  Sadie,  as  she  shot  a  peculiar  glance  at  Kath- 
erine,  "like  a  turkey  we  had  at  home  once  that  had 
never  seen  a  peacock's  plumage  until  after  he  had  done 
a  good  deal  of  strutting  around,  with  his  own  self-suf- 
ficient appendage  spread  out  to  its  widest  extent.  He 
collapsed,  though,  when  he  saw  that  blaze  of  glory." 

"Thank  you,  Sadie,  for  so  pat  an  illustration  of  an 
exceedingly  uncomfortable  frame  of  mind,"  said  Prof. 
Seabrook,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  fine  eyes,  while 
an  appreciative  laugh  ran  around  the  circle. 

The  girl  flushed  scarlet  in  sudden  dismay. 

"Prof.  Seabrook!"  she  faltered,  "I  didn't  mean— I 
was  only  thinking  of  what  I  said  to  Katherine  about 
being  a  Christian  Scientist  the  day  she  came  here.  I 
told  her,  very  grandly,  that  I  was  an  Episcopalian, 
that  my  grandfather  was  an  Episcopalian  clergyman, 


SHEAVES  315 

and  I  had  my  doubts  about  his  resting  easy  in  his 
grave  if  he  knew  what  a  rank  heretic  I  had  for  a  room- 
mate. Well,  she  just  unfurled  a  white  banner  of  Love 
to  me,  and  I've  wanted  to  hide  my  diminished  head 
every  time  I've  thought  of  it  since." 

"All  right,  Sadie;  there's  no  offense,"  returned  the 
principal,  with  a  smiling  glance  at  her  still  flushed 
cheeks,  "and  I  think  there  may  be  some  others  among 
us  who  have  learned  a  salutary  lesson  from  our  modest 
but  stanch  'brown-eyed  lassie,'  for  she  certainly  has 
tried,  as  she  told  me  she  would  on  that  same  day,  'to 
live  her  religion  of  Love.'  But,"  turning  again  to 
Mrs.  Minturn,  "that  reminds  me  of  something  else  I 
wished  to  ask  you." 

Reopening  his  book,  he  read  aloud  the  sixth  tenet, 
emphasizing  the  phrase  "to  love  one  another." 

"I  find,  in  reading  this  book,"  he  resumed,  "that  you 
Scientists  give  a  higher  signification  to  that  word 
'love'  than  is  implied  by  the  ordinary  interpretation. 
Mere  sentiment  or  emotion  have  nothing  in  common 
with  your  concept  of  its  meaning?" 

"Our  Leader  says,  in  her  book  of  'Miscellaneous 
Writings,'*  that  'no  word  is  more  misconstrued,  no 
sentiment  less  understood/ "  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"Spiritual  love  is  governed  by  its  principle — divine 
Love.  Emotional  or  sentimental  love  has  no  prin- 
ciple. It  is  governed  by  mortal  impulse,  moods,  per- 
sonal attraction,  and  so  forth.  Divine  Love  has  but 
one  impulse — infinite  impersonal  good.  Paul's  sub- 
lime definition  of  charity,  or  the  love  that  'beareth  all 


*By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy,  page  250. 


316  KATHERINE'S 

things,'  'that  never  faileth/  'that  thinketh  no  evil/  is 
the  Christian  Science  idea  of  love,  and  as  our  text-book 
teaches,  nothing  short  of  this,  lived  and  demonstrated 
in  the  daily  life,  is  Christian  Science  love." 

"That  is  your  lesson  to  me  over  again,"  whispered 
Miss  Reynolds,  who  was  sitting  beside  Katherine,  "and 
I  need  it." 

"But  you  would  not  abolish  human  love?"  Dr.  Stan- 
ley here  abruptly  questioned. 

"I  would  have  it  governed,  transformed  by  divine 
Love,"  returned  Mrs.  Minturn,  gently.  "There  is 
much  more  of  selfishness  embodied  in  so-called  human 
love  than  one  can  realize  until  one  learns  its  spiritual 
signification.  The  mother's  is  the  purest  of  all  hu- 
man affection,  and  yet,  even  this  is  not  devoid  of  selfish- 
ness, for  it  is  'my  boy'  or  'my  girl'  for  whom  she  will 
toil  and  efface  herself  to  secure  advantages,  and  often 
to  their  detriment.  The  love  that  is  absorbed  in  my 
wife  or  husband,  my  sister  or  brother,  my  friend,  is  not 
the  truest,  although  it  is  right  to  care  tenderly  for  those 
who  are  dependent  upon  us.  But  the  yearning  that 
reaches  out  to  all  men,  recognizing  in  everyone  'my 
mother,  my  sister,  my  brother' — for  all  are  God's  chil- 
dren, and  there  are  no  mine  or  thine  in  Truth — is  the 
love  of  God,  the  reflected  Love  that  is  God." 

"I  see,  Mrs.  Minturn;  it  is  manifesting  what  the 
'little  book'  says,  the  'love  of  Love/*  or  the  good  of 
Good  without  regard  to  personality,  so  if  we  are  re- 
flecting it  we  cannot  even  think  anything  but  good  of 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  319. 


SHEAVES  317 

everyone,"  here  interposed  Dorothy,  who  had  listened 
intently  to  all  that  had  been  said. 

"You  dear  child !  how  much  better  you  have  said  it 
than  I  with  my  multiplicity  of  words!"  observed  Mrs. 
Minturn,  bending  a  look  of  affection  upon  her. 

"She  has  simply  summarized  what  you  have  given 
us ;  but  your  analysis  has  been  very  helpful  to  me,  and 
I  now  see  more  clearly  much  that  I  have  been  question- 
ing during  my  recent  perusal  of  the  book,"  Prof.  Sea- 
brook  remarked. 

"Our  Leader  has  long  been  reflecting  this  impersonal 
Love  in  her  wonderful  devotion  to  the  Cause  she  has 
espoused,"  Mrs.  Minturn  resumed.  "Her  one  thought 
and  motive  is  and  always  has  been — since  the  Science 
of  Christianity  was  revealed  to  her — to  send  forth  the 
new  gospel  to  all  'nations  and  peoples  and  tongues/  and 
gather  them  under  its  sacred  banner,  knowing  that  it 
is  the  'pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night'  that 
will  surely  guide  them  into  the  'Promised  Land.'  " 

"Yet  she  is  severely  criticised  for  claiming  that  it 
was  a  divine  revelation ;  for  assuming  'unwarrantable 
authority'  and  demanding  'unquestioning  obedience,'  " 
said  her  host. 

"Is  that  a  fair  or  an  honest  criticism,  Prof.  Sea- 
brook?"  inquired  his  guest.  "Has  she  not  proved  that 
Christian  Science  was  a  divine  revelation,  not  only  by 
her  own  wonderful  demonstrations,  but  by  the  mar- 
velous results  which  follow  the  study  of  her  book, 
'Science  and  Health,'  not  to  dwell  upon  the  great 
work  accomplished  by  the  thousands  of  her  students 
who  have  faithfully  followed  her  teachings?  Then,  a 
leader  must  lead.  Under  supreme  orders  she  became 


3 1 8  KATHERINE'S 

the  pioneer  to  mark  the  way  for  others ;  she  has  scaled 
heights  which  no  others  have  attained  since  the  days 
of  the  Master,  and  so  she  alone  is  fitted  to  direct.  You, 
after  long  experience,  have  organized  this  school ;  you 
know  best  what  is  most  needed  to  promote  the  highest 
interests  of  your  students  and  maintain  the  superior 
standard  of  your  institution.  But  your  word  has  to 
be  law  to  attain  these  conditions,  and  you  insist  upon 
implicit  obedience  to  your  rules  and  mandates.  Are 
you  autocratically  exacting  or  'assuming  unwarrant- 
able authority'  by  so  doing  in  order  to  meet  the  respon- 
sibilities devolving  upon  you?  As  I  said  before,  'a 
leader  must  lead,'  and  a  general  must  direct,  as  he  dis- 
cerns the  need  from  his  vantage  ground  above  the 
field  of  battle,  or  the  cause  would  be  lost." 

"I  see  your  point.  It  is  fairly  and  logically  argued, 
and  I  am  frank  to  admit  that  much  of  the  criticism  of 
Mrs.  Eddy  may  be  prompted  by  antagonism,  jealousy 
and  prejudice,"  the  gentleman  returned. 

"But  much  more  it  is  the  outgrowth  of  misunder- 
standing," said  Mrs.  Minturn,  charitably.  "Those 
who  have  most  uncompromisingly  denounced  Christian 
Science  and  its  Founder  have  spoken  and  written  with- 
out a  proper  knowledge  of  their  subject,  without  hav- 
ing even  attempted  to  investigate,  in  order  to  prove 
the  truth  or  error  of  what  they  had  heard.  They  claim 
to  have  'read  the  book,'  but  you  know,  from  your  own 
experience,  that  one  casual  reading  is  not  sufficient  to 
enable  one  to  grasp  the  fundamental  principles  con- 
tained therein." 

"That  is  true,"  he  assented. 

"And  no  man  of    good    judgment,"    she  went  on, 


SHEAVES  319 

"would  feel  that  he  was  prepared  to  write  a  treatise  or 
exposition  of  some  profound  subject  and  give  it  to  a 
critical  public,  until  he  had  thoroughly  mastered  it; 
and  this  he  would  know  he  could  not  do  in  one,  or  even 
two,  superficial  readings.  But  these  criticisms  do  not 
disturb  us;  they  only  make  us  love  our  Leader  more, 
for  her  sweet  patience,  forbearance  and  forgiveness; 
and  we  know  that  the  time  will  come  when  all  will 
learn  the  Truth,  'from  the  least  to  the  greatest,'  and 
'rise  up  to  call  her  blessed.' " 

"I  am  beginning  to  see  that,  too,"  said  the  professor. 
"But  there  is  one  thing  more.  Of  course,  you  have 
had  to  meet  the  question  many  times — one  hears  it 
everywhere,  and  the  papers  every  now  and  then  re- 
iterate it — how  about  the  high  price  of  the  text-book 
and  the  teaching?" 

"I  would  hardly  have  thought  that  such  a  question 
would  have  suggested  itself  to  you,  Prof.  Seabrook, 
knowing,  as  you  do,  the  high  price  demanded  for  some 
of  your  own  text-books.  Then,  regarding  the  teaching, 
Hilton  students  pay  from  eight  hundred  to  a  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  according  to  the  privileges  they  enjoy, 
not  counting  the  extras;  and  the  course  is  four  years, 
making  quite  a  round  sum  in  the  aggregate.  You 
force  me  to  be  personal  as  well  as  practical  in  my  ar- 
guments," Mrs.  Minturn  interposed,  with  an  arch 
smile.  "Now  for  the  other  side  of  the  question.  Sev- 
enteen years  ago  I  was  healed  of  what  several  physi- 
cians— to  whom  I  paid  many  hundreds  of  dollars — 
said  was  an  incurable  disease,  by  simply  reading  'Sci- 
ence and  Health,'  for  which  I  paid  three  dollars.  A 
year  later  I  studied  with  one  of  Mrs.  Eddy's  loyal 


32o  KATHERINE'S 

students,  to  whom  I  paid  one  hundred  dollars  for  my 
course  of  instruction.  Since  that  time  I  have  never 
employed  a  physician  or  paid  out  a  penny  for  medi- 
cines. In  view  of  these  facts,  do  you  think  that  the 
price  of  the  .book  and  teaching  should  be  regarded  as 
'exorbitant/  'out  of  all  reason/  an  'imposition  upon  the 
public/  and  many  similar  expressions,  as  are  repeated 
over  and  over  by  numerous  denouncers  and  newspa- 
pers?" 

Prof.  Seabrook  made  a  deprecatory  gesture. 

"I  am  ashamed  to  have  raised  such  a  point,"  he  said ; 
"it  seems  exceedingly  narrow  and  petty." 

"And  besides,"  Mrs.  Minturn  continued,  "this  same 
book  and  teaching  have  enabled  me  to  heal  hundreds 
of  people  of  all  manner  of  diseases,  and  send  them  on 
their  way  rejoicing  and  to  help  others.  Ah!"  she 
cried,  with  eyes  that  shone  through  starting  tears, 
"how  can  anyone  speak  slightingly  of  that  dear  woman 
who  has  been  instrumental  in  giving  such  a  boon  to 
suffering  humanity,  or  criticise  any  act  which,  in  her 
God-given  wisdom,  she  is  led  to  do?  But,  I  am  sure, 
I  have  talked  enough  for  now,  although  I  am  at  your 
service  at  any  time  if  other  questions  arise  to  perplex," 
she  concluded,  as  she  arose,  and  the  little  company, 
after  a  few  moments  spent  in  social  converse,  sep- 
arated for  the  night. 

A  few  days  later  Miss  Reynolds  sought  Katherine. 
The  girl  was  in  a  music  room,  where  she  had  been 
practicing  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  arose  as  her  friend 
entered,  an  expectant  look  on  her  face,  for  she  seemed 
to  feel  at  once  that  there  was  something  unusual  in 
the  atmosphere. 


SHEAVES  321 

The  woman  was  evidently  in  a  strangely  serious 
mood.  There  was  an  expression  of  exaltation  in  her 
eyes,  which  told  of  some  deep,  new  experience  that  had 
aroused  profound  reverence  and  wonder,  and  a  droop- 
ing of  her  sweet  lips  that  bespoke  a  spirit  bowed  be- 
neath a  sense  of  humility,  and  she  carried  a  letter  in 
her  hand. 

"Read  that,  dear,"  she  said,  in  a  repressed  tone,  as 
she  passed  it  to  her  pupil. 

Katherine  removed  the  missive  from  its  envelope 
and  read : 

"Miss  ADELE  REYNOLDS: 

"DEAR  MADAM  :  My  father,  as  possibly  you  may 
have  heard  ere  this,  passed  away  one  week  ago  to-day. 
You  will  perhaps  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  have  long 
known  there  existed  an  error  at  the  time  of  the  settle- 
ment of  Mr.  Reynolds' — your  father's — affairs  nearly 
eleven  years  ago,  and,  although  I  sought  several  times 
to  do  so,  I  was  powerless  to  have  the  matter  rectified. 
Now,  however,  my  sister  and  I,  being  the  only  heirs  to 
our  father's  property,  have  agreed  that  justice  must 
be  done,  and  have  deposited  in  the  First  National  Bank 
of  this  city  the  amount — with  accrued  interest — that  is 
your  rightful  due,  and  it  is  subject  to  your  order. 
Trusting  that  you  will  kindly  throw  the  veil  of  charity 
over  what  has  been  a  great  wrong,  I  am, 

"Very  respectfully  yours, 

"JOHN  F.  HOWARD." 

As  she  finished  reading  this  letter  Katherine  looked 
into  the  eyes  of  her  teacher  and  smiled. 

"Kathie,  I  can  hardly  believe  it!"  said  Miss  Rey- 
nolds, in  a  voice  choked  with  tears. 

"  'The  measure  that  ye  mete  shall  be  measured  to 


322 


KATHERINE'S 


you  again,'  you  know,"  softly  returned  her  companion, 
"and  love  begets  love.  You,  long  since,  threw  the 
mantle  of  Love  over  your  'brother/  and  Truth  has  un- 
covered and  destroyed  the  error — in  other  words,  the 
greed — that  seemed  to  rob  you  of  what  was  justly 
yours." 

"It  makes  me  very  humble,"  faltered  her  teacher. 
"I  have  tried  to  love  because,  to  be  loyal  to  Truth,  I 
must  do  nothing  else." 

"Yes,  and  so  Love  has  fulfilled  the  law ;  and,  as  our 
text-book  says,  'Mercy  cancels  the  debt  only  when 
justice  approves.'  "* 

"And  Katherine" — and  Miss  Reynolds'  face  glowed 
with  happiness — "now  the  way  is  opened  for  me  to  do 
what  I  had  decided  I  must  do  by  the  end  of  this  year — 
'go  work  in  His  vineyard.'  I  did  not  clearly  see  how 
I  could  do  it,  but  I  have  tried  to  know  that  'God  is  the 
source  of  all  supply,  and  I  left  it  there.' " 


*"Science  and  Health,"  page  22. 


SHEAVES  323 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

'The  End  of  School  Days. 

Time  seemed  to  fly  after  Mrs.  Minturn's  visit.  Win- 
ter melted  into  spring,  spring  budded  and  blossomed 
into  summer,  and  June,  with  its  examinations,  com- 
mencement exercises  and  formalities,  was  once  more 
close  upon  the  students  at  Hilton. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Minturn  came  on  from  New  York  to 
be  present  at  Katherine's  graduation,  after  which  the 
family,  Jennie  included,  were  going  directly  to  their 
summer  home  at  Manchester. 

Prof.  Seabrook  had  again  been  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  the  Hunt  cottage  for  the  season,  for  the  owners 
were  going  abroad  for  a  year  and  were  only  too  glad 
to  rent  it  to  such  desirable  tenants. 

Sadie  was  going  with  her  guardian  and  his  family 
to  Newport  for  the  summer,  but  had  promised  Kath- 
erine  a  fortnight's  visit  during  the  latter  half  of  July. 

The  two  girls  had  grown  closer  and  closer  to  each 
other,  and  they  now  found  themselves  very  loath  to 
separate,  to  dismantle  their  pretty  room  and  pack  their 
trunks,  for  their  final  flitting  from  Hilton,  their  well- 
beloved  alma  mater.  Their  prospective  departure  was 
also  generally  regretted  by  both  teachers  and  pupils, 
who  were  to  remain,  for  each  had  won  a  stronghold  in 
all  hearts. 


324  KATHERINE'S 

There  had  been  a  great  change  in  Sadie,  but  it  had 
only  served  to  make  her  more  attractive,  and  she  had 
kept  her  word  to  "do  her  best"  work  during  her  last 
year,  for  she  now  stood  second  in  her  class,  and  thus 
had  won  the  respect  of  her  principal  as  well  as  of  her 
teachers,  while  her  happy  temperament  and  the  almost 
prodigal  expenditure  of  her  ample  income  to  give 
pleasure  to  others  had  made  her  many  farm  friends 
among  the  students. 

Katherine,  as  we  know,  had  broken  every  barrier 
down  before  her  junior  year  expired,  and  during  the 
present  one  not  a  cloud  had  gathered  to  mar  her  rela- 
tions with  her  associates ;  while,  having  lived  her  re- 
ligion, Christian  Science  had  grown  to  be  respected  by 
the  whole  school,  especially  after  it  became  known 
what  had  produced  the  wonderful  change  in  Dorothy, 
who  did  not  seem  like  the  same  girl,  and  was  now  able 
to  get  about  quite  nimbly  with  the  aid  of  crutches. 

The  last  all-important  day  arrived,  and  the  retiring 
seniors  "did  themselves  proud"  in  their  "grand  final 
parade"  before  the  public,  receiving  their  floral  tributes 
and  diplomas  with  pretty,  consequential  airs  and  smiles 
of  supreme  content,  singing  their  last  songs,  but  wiping 
away  a  furtive  tear  or  two  which  the  suggestive  melo- 
dies evoked ;  then  their  reign  at  Hilton  was  over. 

After  the  class  was  dismissed,  as  Katherine  was 
gathering  up  her  flowers  to  take  them  to  her  room,  she 
glanced  at  the  cards  attached  to  the  various  offerings. 
One  bore  "With  dear  love  from  father  and  mother" ; 
another  was  from  "Sadie,"  and  a  third  from  "Dor- 
othy." 

She  stood  in  thoughtful  silence  for  a  moment  after 


SHEAVES  325 

reading  these  names,  a  look  of  perplexity  on  her  young 
face,  a  little  shadow  dimming  her  pretty  brown  eyes. 

"I  wonder,"  she  began ;  then,  suddenly  cutting  her- 
self short,  she  threw  back  her  small  head  with  an  un- 
accustomed air,  and  with  a  bright  red  spot  on  either 
cheek,  went  straight  to  her  room. 

"Bless  your  heart,  honey !  Whatever  has  given  you 
such  a  magnificent  color?"  Sadie  exclaimed,  as  Kath- 
erine  opened  the  door,  to  find  her  roommate  trying  to 
dispose  of  the  wealth  of  flowers  that  had  poured  in 
upon  her  from  all  sources. 

"Have  I  more  than  usual?"  she  inquired,  putting 
one  hand  over  a  hot  cheek,  which  began  to  take  on  an 
even  deeper  hue. 

"Indeed  you  have,  and  it's  mighty  becoming  to  you. 
You  are  perfectly  stunning,  and  I'd  like  a  picture  of 
you  as  you  look  now,"  and  the  girl's  appreciative 
glance  swept  over  the  graceful  figure  in  its  trailing 
white  dress,  the  brilliant  flowers  encircled  with  one  fair 
arm  and  the  beautiful  face  all  aglow  with  its  unac- 
customed color.  "Well,"  she  went  on,  with  a  satisfied 
sigh,  "it  is  all  over,  ami  mia,  and  I'm  sure  we  made  a 
downright  splendid  show,  to  say  nothing  about  the 
honor  we  heaped  upon  ourselves,  with  our  essays, 
poems,  class  history,  singing,  etc.  I  was  proud  of  it 
all.  Now  for  the  grand  finale  to-night,  and  that,  I  sup- 
pose, will  end  our  school  life.  Heigh-ho!  aren't  you 
just  a  little  bit  sorry,  -Kathleen  mavourneen?" 

"Yes,  of  course;  one  cannot  help  feeling  the  break- 
ing away;  er — Sadie,  was  Dr.  Stanley  in  the  audience 
this  afternoon?" 

Miss  Minot  shot  a  quick,  comprehensive  look  from 


326  KATHERINE'S 

under  her  long  lashes  at  her  companion,  who  had 
turned  a  little  from  her  and  was  now  apparently  gazing 
out  of  a  window. 

"O-h!  I  see!"  she  ejaculated,  reflectively,  after  an 
instant  of  hesitation. 

"What  do  you  see?"  demanded  Katherine,  in  sur- 
prise, and  facing  her  suddenly. 

"Why !  Why,  this  beautiful  Katherine — Mermet  is 
refractory;  she — it  won't  stand  up  in  the  vase;  it  has 
a  crooked  stem,  lops  over  dejectedly  and  needs  doctor- 
ing," Sadie  observed,  demurely,  as  she  held  the  flower 
up  to  view.  "But" — with  a  sly  smile — "I  reckon  a 
little  skillful  surgery  will  straighten  it  out.  Yes,  Dr. 
Stanley  was  there — up  in  the  north  corner,  almost  be- 
hind that  great  post.  How  strange  you  didn't  see 
him !" 

"I  didn't  try  to  find  anybody ;  I  didn't  care  to  know 
where  anybody  sat,  at  least  until  after  I  had  read  my 
essay ;  and  then,  you  know,  it  was  almost  over,"  ex- 
plained Katherine,  turning  away  again,  but  not  be- 
fore her  friend  had  noticed  that  the  color  was  now  all 
gone  from  her  face. 

She  nodded  her  head  wisely  once  or  twice. 

"He  didn't  send  any  flowers,"  she  mentally  ob- 
served. "Those  Jacks  are  mine;  the  mixed  bouquet 
is  from  the  Minturns,  and  I  saw  Dorrie  give  the  usher 
those  Daybreak  pinks.  Well,  it  is  queer.  I  wonder 
what  it  means?" 

"There!"  she  remarked,  aloud,  "I've  done  the  best  I 
can  with  my  avalanche  of  sweetness ;  now  give  me 
yours,  honey,  and  I  will  put  them  in  this  jardiniere. 
But  what  will  you  save  out  to  wear  with  your  recep- 


SHEAVES  327 

tion  gown  to-night  ?"  she  asked,  as  she  took  the  flowers 
from  Katherine. 

"I — don't  know,  Sadie;  I  believe  I  won't  make  any 
change — I'll  go  just  as  I  am,"  was  the  dejected  reply 
as  the  girl  sank  wearily  into  a  chair. 

"Go  just  as  you  are!  not  make  any  change!  Well, 
now,  Miss  Minturn,  that  really  'jars'  me ;  with  that  per- 
fectly killing  pink  liberty  gauze,  made  over  pink  silk, 
all  ready  to  slip  on,  and  which  just  makes  me  green 
with  envy  to  look  at,"  Sadie  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of 
mock  consternation,  although,  as  she  told  her  later, 
she  was  "dying  to  shriek  with  laughter."  "What  is 
the  matter,  honey?"  she  added,  softly,  the  next  mo- 
ment. 

"Matter?"  repeated  Katherine,  trying  to  look  uncon- 
scious. 

"Yes;  are  you  tired?" 

"Well — it  has  been  a  pretty  busy  day,  you  know," 
and  a  half-repressed  sigh  seemed  to  indicate  weariness. 

"Who  is  that,  I  wonder?"  remarked  Miss  Minot,  as 
some  one  knocked  for  admittance.  "Come  in." 

T'he  door  opened  and  a  maid  put  her  head  inside. 

"A  box  for  Miss  Minturn,"  she  said,  briefly. 

Katherine  sprang  forward  to  take  it  and  a  strange 
tremor  seized  her  as  she  severed  the  twine,  removed 
the  wrapper  and  lifted  the  cover. 

Then  the  rich  color  flooded  cheek  and  brow  as  she 
saw  a  small  but  exquisite  spray  bouquet  of  white  moss 
rosebuds  lying  upon  a  bed  of  moist  cotton,  and,  be- 
side them,  a  card  bearing  the  name,  "Phillip  Harris 
Stanley." 

"Sadie!    Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  lovely?"  she 


328  KATHERINE'S 

cried,  holding  it  out  for  her  friend  to  admire,  and  try- 
ing not  to  look  too  happy. 

"  'Lovely'  doesn't  half  express  it,"  returned  the  girl, 
glancing  from  the  waxen  buds  to  the  radiant  face 
bending  above  them.  "Ahem  !  Who  sent  'em  ?" 

"Dr.  Stanley." 

"U-m !  just  the  thing  to  wear  with  that  pink  gauze 
to-night,"  was  the  laconic  suggestion. 

"They  would  look  pretty  with  it,  wouldn't  they?" 
said  Katherine,  innocently. 

"I  reckon  that  was  what  they  were  meant  for,  or 
they  would  have  come  before  and  been  handed  in 
downstairs,"  Miss  Minot  observed,  with  an  audible 
chuckle. 

"Nonsense,  Sadie!" 

"What'll  you  wager  on  it?" 

"How  can  one  make  a  wager  on  what  can't  be  veri- 
fied?" 

"Oh" — with  an  irrepressible  giggle — "I'll  take  care 
of  that  part  of  it,  if  you'll  only  bet." 

"What  a  perfect  torment  you  can  be,  Sadie  Minot, 
when  you  take  a  notion,"  interposed  Katherine,  flush- 
ing, but  with  a  laugh  that  rang  out  clearly  and 
sweetly.  "But  I  must  go  and  find  mamma.  She  will 
be  wondering  what  has  become  of  me,"  and  she  turned 
abruptly  away  to  get  out  of  range  of  a  pair  of  saucy, 
twinkling  eyes. 

She  carefully  sprinkled  her  buds,  then  covered  them 
to  keep  them  fresh,  after  which  she  went  out  to  seek 
her  parents,  humming  a  bar  of  their  farewell  song  on 
the  way.  As  the  sound  of  her  footsteps  died  away  in 


SHEAVES  329 

the  distance  Sadie  sank  upon  a  chair  and  gave  vent  to 
a  ringing  peal  of  mirthful  laughter. 

"Moss  rosebuds !"  she  panted.  "They  will  look 
'pretty'  with  her  dress !  Oh,  innocence !  thy  name  is 
Katherine." 

A  few  hours  later  the  main  building  of  the  seminary 
was  ablaze  with  light  and  resounding  with  music, 
happy  voices  and  laughter,  together  with  the  tripping 
of  many  feet  in  the  merry  dance. 

Bright  and  attractive  maidens,  in  lovely  evening 
dresses  of  many  hues,  flitting  hither  and  thither  with 
their  attendants  in  more  conventional  attire ;  parents 
and  guardians,  gathered  in  social  groups,  or  from 
advantageous  positions,  watching  with  smiling  content 
the  brilliant  scene;  lavish  and  beautiful  floral  decora- 
tions lending  a  perfumed  atmosphere  and  artistic  effect 
to  the  whole,  all  made  a  charming  and  spirited  picture 
which  Prof.  Seabrook  dearly  loved  to  gaze  upon,  and 
to  which  he  always  looked  eagerly  forward  at  the  close 
of  every  school  year;  albeit  his  enjoyment  was  some- 
what tempered  with  sadness  in  view  of  the  final  fare- 
wells that  must  be  said  to  his  senior  class  on  the 
morrow. 

To-night,  as  he  mingled  with  his  guests,  everywhere 
showing  himself  the  thoughtful  host  and  courteous  gen- 
tleman, his  glance  fell,  several  times,  upon  a  graceful, 
rose-draped  figure  wearing  a  spray  of  white  moss  rose- 
buds on  her  corsage. 

He  also  observed,  as  she  moved  in  rhythmic  sway  to 
the  inspiring  music,  that  she  was  supported  by  the 
strong  arm  of  his  distingue-looking  brother-in-law,  who 
seemed,  he  thought,  to  be  paying  more  homage  than 


330  KATHERINE'S 

usual  to  the  Terpsichorean  Muse,  and  one  particular 
lady. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it,  Will  ?"  whispered  his 
wife,  who  happened  to  be  near  him  once  as  the  couple 
went  circling  by. 

"What  do  I  think  of  what,  Emelie?"  he  queried, 
evasively. 

"Why,  of  the  way  Phil  is  carrying  on  to-night !  Did 
you  ever  see  anybody  so  lost  to  all  things  mundane — 
save  the  presence  of  a  certain  very  dainty  little  lady 
— as  he  is  at  this  moment  ?" 

"He  does  seem  unusually  frisky,  I  admit — especially 
with  his  feet,"  said  the  professor,  with  a  smile. 

"His  feet!  Will,  just  look  at  him!  He  doesn't 
know  he  has  any  feet ;  he  is  all  eyes  and — heart !  You 
know  what  I  mean,  dear,"  his  companion  pursued. 
"I've  seen  you  watching  them  with  that  quizzical  look 
in  your  eyes.  What  would  you  think  of  it  as  a — a 
match  ?" 

"Emelie!  a  matchmaker! — thou !"  ejaculated  her 
husband,  in  a  tone  of  mock  dismay,  though  his  lips 
twitched  with  amusement. 

She  laughed  out  musically,  a  sound  that  he  loved  and 
heard  frequently  nowadays. 

"But  what  would  you  think?"  she  persisted. 

"I  would  think,  sweetheart,  that — with  one  exception 
I  could  name — he  had  won  a  crown  jewel  and  the 
sweetest  wife  in  the  world,"  replied  the  professor  as  he 
looked  fondly  down  into  the  blue  eyes  uplifted  to  his. 

Once  Sadie,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  dashing  cadet 
in  uniform,  swept  slowly  by  Katherine  and  her  com- 
panion. 


SHEAVES  331 

"How  about  that  wager,  honey?"  she  languidly  in- 
quired, her  roguish  eyes  fastened  upon  the  conspicuous 
rosebuds. 

But  Katherine's  only  reply  was  a  defiant  toss  of  her 
brown  head  as  she  smiled  serenely  back  at  her  and 
whirled  blissfully  on. 

Of  course,  it  all  had  to  come  to  an  end,  and  morning 
found  the  weary,  though  still  happy,  revelers  prepar- 
ing, with  much  bustle  and  confusion,  to  disperse  to 
their  various  homes ;  but  that  last  delightful  evening, 
with  its  music,  and  flowers,  and  charming  associations, 
remained  a  brilliant  spot  in  memory's  realm  during 
many  after  years. 

A  week  later  found  the  Minturns  and  Seabrooks 
again  located  for  the  season  at  Manchester-by-the-sea. 

Prof.  Seabrook,  to  the  great  joy  of  his  family,  was 
to  remain  with  them  throughout  the  vacation.  He 
would  do  no  roaming  this  year,  he  said.  He  had  some- 
thing of  far"  more  importance  to  attend  to,  and  unfolded 
a  plan  to  his  dear  ones,  which  was  received  with  the 
greatest  enthusiasm;  more  of  which  anon. 

It  proved  to  be  a  summer  long  to  be  remembered  by 
all,  especially  by  Jennie,  for  various  reasons ;  one  of 
which  was,  she  had  never  before  seen  the  ocean,  and  it 
was  a  wonderful  revelation  to  her,  filling  her  with 
ever-increasing  admiration  and  awe. 

"One  gets  something  of  an  idea  of  what  eternity 
means,"  she  said,  with  a  long-drawn  breath  of  rapture, 
when,  one  day,  Katherine  accompanied  her  to  a  high 
point  which  commanded  a  limitless  expanse  of  sea  that 
seemed  to  softly  melt  away  into  the  sky  and  so  become 
lost  to  human  vision. 


332  KATHERINE'S 

She  could  not  content  herself  indoors  much  of  the 
time,  and  almost  won  for  herself  again  the  sobriquet  of 
"Wild  Jennie,"  for  she  would  often  disappear  directly 
after  breakfast,  going  off  on  long  tramps  to  return 
hours  later,  laden  with  a  promiscuous  assortment  of 
shells,  stones,  star-fish  and  other  curiosities  with  which 
she  lavishly  adorned  her  own  room  and  various  other 
portions  of  the  house. 

"Oh,  it's  only  a  'spell,'  "  she  retorted  one  day,  when 
Katherine  laughingly  commented  upon  her  concho- 
logical,  geological,  ichthyological  "research."  "It  has 
got  to  have  its  'run,'  like  some  other  beliefs  that  aren't 
so  good;  then  I'll  get  over  it,  I  suppose,  settle  down 
and  behave  like  people  who  are  already  seasoned.  If 
I  could  only  be  as  successful  in  a  genealogical  way 
there'd  be  nothing  left  to  wish  for,"  she  concluded  with 
a  wistful  sigh.J^ 

"Are  you  still  brooding  over  that,  Jennie?"  gravely 
inquired  Katherine. 

"Not  exactly  'brooding/  dearie.  I  guess  it's  just  a 
kind  of  hankering,  though  mortal  mind  does  set  up  a 
howl,  now  and  then,  in  spite  of  me,  and  says  'don't  you 
wish  you  knew.'  " 

Katherine  laughed  softly  at  the  characteristic  phrase- 
ology, but  bent  a  very  tender  look  upon  the  girl. 

"Well,  you  do  know  that  you  are  God's  child,"  she 
said,  gently. 

"Yes ;  and  I  know  it  now,  in  a  way  that  I  never  did 
before  I  knew  you ;  and  I'm  sure  no  other  'stray  waif 
ever  had  quite  so  much  to  be  thankful  for  as  I  have." 

They  all  loved  the  girl,  and  she  was  the  life  of  the 
house,  although  she  had  toned  down  considerably  dur- 


SHEAVES  333 

ing  the  last  year ;  for  she  was  always  bright  and  cheery, 
keeping  everybody  in  a  ripple  with  her  quaint  sayings 
and  contagious  mirth. 

At  the  same  time  she  made  herself  helpful,  in  many 
ways,  was  ever  thoughtful  for  others,  and,  withal,  so 
affectionate  that  everyone  was  the  happier  for  her  pres- 
ence in  the  house. 

So  the  time  drew  on  apace  for  the  convening  of  Mrs. 
Minturn's  "class,"  the  date  of  which  had  been  set  for 
the  twentieth  of  July. 

It  was  to  be  a  full  class,  this  year,  and  a  convenient 
room  had  been  secured  in  the  "Back  Bay  district,"  in 
Boston,  many  of  her  prospective  students  being  desir- 
ous of  spending  their  vacation  in  that  city  to  enjoy  the 
privileges  and  services  of  "The  Mother  Church." 

Prof.  Seabrook  took  rooms  for  himself  and  family 
near  by — this  was  his  "plan,"  that  they  all  three  have 
class  instruction  together — for  such  an  arrangement 
would  be  more  convenient  for  them  than  to  try  to  go 
back  and  forth,  each  day,  and  also  give  them  more  time 
for  study. 

It  was  an  earnest  and  intelligent  company  that  gath- 
ered in  the  appointed  place  on  Monday,  July  twentieth, 
all  eager  to  be  fed  with  the  Bread  of  Life.  There 
were  two  clergymen,  one  physician,  two  lawyers,  sev- 
eral teachers,  business  men  and  women,  and  others 
from  humbler  walks  of  life.  Miss  Reynolds  had  come 
on  to  "review";  Jennie  and  Sadie  were  also  among  the 
number. 

Intense  interest  and  the  closest  attention  were  mani- 
fested throughout  the  course,  and  Mrs.  Minturn  after- 
wards remarked  that  the  class,  as  a  whole,  was  one  of 


334  KATHERINE'S 

the  brightest  and  most  receptive  that  she  had  ever 
taught. 

The  sixth  lesson  was  a  particularly  impressive  one, 
during  which  every  occupant  of  that  sacred  room  be- 
came so  conscious  of  the  power  and  presence  of  Truth 
and  Love,  that  the  place  almost  seemed  to  them  a 
"mount  of  transfiguration,"  as  it  were,  where  the  Christ 
was  revealed  to  them  as  never  before. 

When  the  class  was  dismissed  for  the  day,  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  asked  Prof.  Seabrook  if  he  would  kindly  remain 
to  assist  her  with  some  papers  she  had  to  make  out; 
and  Mrs.  Seabrook  and  Dorothy,  their  "hearts  still 
burning  within  them,"  stole  quietly  away  to  their  rooms 
to  talk  over  by  themselves  the  beautiful  things  they  had 
learned  that  morning. 

They  passed  out  upon  the  street  and  had  walked 
nearly  half  the  distance  to  their  boarding  place,  when 
Mrs.  Seabrook  stopped  short  and  turned  a  startled  face 
to  her  child. 

"Dorothy,  your  crutches !"  was  all  she  could  say. 

The  girl  lifted  a  wondering  look  to  her. 

"Mamma!"  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  awe,  "I  forgot 
all  about  them !" 

"Shall  we — shall  I  go  back  for  them?"  mechanically 
inquired  her  mother. 

"Go  back  for  my  crutches  ?  Mamma !  why,  mamma ! 
don't  you  see  that  I  am  free? — that  I  can  walk  as  well 
as  you?"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  catch  in  her  breath  that 
was  very  like  a  sob.  "You've  just  got  to  know  it,  for 
me  and  with  me,"  she  continued  authoritatively,  as  she 
started  on,  "for  I  will  never  use  them  again.  I  have 
'clung  to  the  truth' — we've  all  clung — and  'Truth  has 


SHEAVES  335 

made  me  free' !  Oh !" — in  an  indescribable  tone — 
"  'who  is  so  great  a  God  as  our  God  ?'  Let  us  g-get 
home  quick,  or — I  shall  have  to  c-cry  right  here  in — 
the  street." 

"Mamma,  I  think  I  know,  now,  just  when  all  the 
fear  left  me,"  Dorothy  said  later,  when,  after  reach- 
ing their  rooms,  each  had  for  a  few  moments  sought 
the  "secret  place"  to  offer  her  hymn  of  praise  for  this 
new  gift  of  Love.  "You  know  how  beautifully  Mrs. 
Minturn  talked  about  man's  'God-given  dominion,'  this 
morning;  did  you  ever  hear  anyone  say  such  lovely 
things?  She  seemed  to  take  you  almost  into  heaven, 
and  I  felt  so  happy — so  light  and  free,  I  wanted  to 
fly.  I  forgot  all  about  my  body,  and  I  walked  out  of 
that  room  without  realizing  what  I  was  doing ;  I  hadn't 
really  got  back  to  mortal  sense  and  things  material, 
when  you  stopped  and  spoke  of  my  crutches.  I  haven't 
said  anything  about  it,  for  it  seemed  too  good  to  be 
true,  but  for  nearly  two  weeks  I've  had  such  a  longing 
to  walk  alone,  and,  at  times,  it  has  almost  seemed  as 
if  I  could,  but  didn't  quite  dare  to  try.  And,  mamma" 
— Dorothy  lowered  her  voice  reverently — "have  you 
noticed,  when  helping  me  to  dress  lately,  that — that  one 
of  the  curves  is  nearly  gone  from  my  back?" 

"Yes,  dear,  but  I  'have  not  dared'  to  call  your  atten- 
tion to  it — that  is  what  has  made  you  seem  so  much 
taller,  though  we  have  called  it  'growing,'  "  her  mother 
returned. 

"Don't  you  think  we  have  been  very,  very  faithless, 
mamma,  dear,  not  to  'dare'  speak  of  our  blessings  and 
thank  God  for  them?"  said  the  girl,  tremulously. 


336  KATHERINE'S 

"Dorrie,  you  shame  me,  every  day,  by  your  implicit 
faith !"  faltered  the  woman,  tears  raining  over  her  face. 

"No — no;  not  'implicit,' mamma, for  that  would  make 
the  other  curve  straight  this  very  minute.  But  I  know 
it  is  going  to  be,  sometime,  for  God  made  the  real  me 
upright  and  nothing  can  deprive  me  of  my  birthright." 

Half  an  hour  later  Prof.  Seabrook  came  in,  looking 
a  trifle  pale  and  anxious. 

Dorothy  arose  and  went  forward,  with  radiant  face, 
to  meet  him.  He  could  not  speak,  but  opened  his  arms 
to  her  and  held  her  close  for  a  minute,  his  trembling 
lips  pressed  against  the  fair  head  lying  on  his  breast. 

Presently  she  gently  released  herself,  remarking: 

"Papa,  do  you  know,  when  you  came  in,  you  looked 
as  if  you  expected  to  find  what  we  have  all  wished 
for  so  long." 

"I  did  and — I  didn't,"  he  replied,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"When  I  had  finished  what  Mrs.  Minturn  asked  me 
to  do,  and  started  to  leave  the  room,  I  saw  your  crutches 
standing  in  the  corner  where  I  had  put  them  after  you 
were  seated. 

"While  I  stood  blankly  staring  and  wondering,  that 
blessed  woman  came  to  me  with  such  a  light  on  her  face 
— it  fairly  shone  with  joy  and  love. 

'  'Dorrie  has  gone,' "  she  said.  "  'I  saw  her  walk 
out  with  her  mother.' 

"Involuntarily  I  put  out  my  hand  to  take  the 
crutches. 

"  'No — leave  them,'  she  said,  'she  will  never  need 
them  again,  and  you  do  not  wish  any  reminders  of  error 
about  you.'  So  I  came  away  praying  'Lord,  I  be- 
lieve, help  thou  my  unbelief.'  " 


SHEAVES  337 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  Momentous  Errand.  »'*** 

There  were  only  three  more  sessions,  but  they  were 
wonderful  "sittings  together,"  for  every  member  had 
been  deeply  impressed  by  the  signal  manifestation  of 
God's  power  in  their  midst,  in  connection  with  Dorothy ; 
and  felt  that  the  place  whereon  they  stood  was  indeed 
"holy  ground." 

Then  the  class  was  dismissed  with  solemn,  but  lov- 
ing, injunctions  to  go  forth  to  "cheer  the  faint,  uplift 
the  fallen,  and  heal  the  sick." 

But,  before  letting  them  go,  Mrs.  Minturn  cordially 
invited  the  students  to  spend  the  following  Thursday 
at  her  home  in  Manchester ;  to  enjoy  a  reunion  and  an 
outing  before  finally  separating  to  go  to  their  different 
fields  of  labor. 

As  their  last  meeting  occurred  on  Tuesday,  there  in- 
tervened but  one  day  in  which  to  prepare  for  the  pros- 
pective festivities  on  Thursday.  But  willing  hearts  and 
hands — for  Mr.  Minturn  was  now  at  home,  and  Prof. 
Seabrook  and  Dr.  Stanley  proffered  their  services — 
made  light  work  of  the  various  things  to  be  done. 

Katherine,  Sadie  and  Jennie  planned  elaborate  dec- 
orations for  the  veranda;  accordingly  the  coachman 
and  hostler  were  dispatched  to  the  woods  for  pine 
boughs,  evergreens,  etc.,  then  to  a  florist's,  for  potted 


338  KATHERINE'S 

ferns  and  plants,  with  an  order  for  cut-flowers  to  be 
sent  on  Thursday  morning,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
the  house  began  to  put  on  quite  a  festive  appearance. 

On  Wednesday,  just  after  lunch,  Mr.  Minturn  re- 
paired to  the  attic  and  brought  forth  a  box  supposed 
to  contain  Chinese  and  Japanese  lanterns,  with  other 
decorations ;  but,  alas !  when  it  was  opened  it  was  found 
that  the  mice  had  made  sad  havoc  with  its  contents,  and 
they  were  condemned  as  utterly  useless. 

"That  means  a  trip  to  Boston,"  the  gentlemen  ob- 
served to  his  wife,  as  he  pushed  the  box  into  a  corner 
with  other  rubbish,  "for  it  would  not  be  safe  to  trust 
to  an  order,  at  this  late  hour,  and  yet  I  do  not  see  how 
I  can  go  and  leave  things  here." 

"I  suppose  one  of  the  maids  might  go,"  said  Mrs. 
Minturn,  rather  doubtfully,  "but,  really,  they  are  hav- 
ing such  a  busy  day,  with  sweeping  and  cleaning,  and 
there  is  so  much  still  to  be  done,  I  hardly  have  the  heart 
to  ask  them." 

Jennie,  who,  with  Mrs.  Seabrook,  Dorrie,  Katherine 
and  Sadie,  was  twining  evergreen  ropes  and  wreaths, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  having  a  lovely,  social  visit, 
overheard  the  above  conversation,  and,  knowing  that 
Mr.  Minturn  could  ill  be  spared,  said  to  herself,  with  a 
sharp  pang  of  regret : 

"I'm  the  one  who  ought  to  go ;  but — I  don't  want  to." 

She  glanced  wistfully  at  the  happy  faces  about  her ; 
at  the  half-finished  wreath  in  her  hands ;  at  the  deep- 
blue  ocean  whence  came  a  cool,  refreshing  breeze,  then, 
with  a  quickly  repressed  sigh,  laid  down  her  work  and 
arose. 

"Let  me  go,"  she  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Minturn  and 


SHEAVES  339 

stealing  a  fond  arm  around  her  waist.  "I'm  sure  I 
can  do  the  errand  all  right." 

"Dear,  they  will  make  quite  a  package,  for  there  will 
have  to  be  a  good  many,"  objected  her  friend,  but  with 
a  quick  smile  of  appreciation  for  her  thoughtfulness. 
"Besides,"  she  added,  glancing  at  the  merry  group  be- 
hind them,  "you  are  all  having  such  a  good  time." 

"Never  mind  anything  so  we  have  the  lanterns.  We 
must  let  our  light  shine,  you  know ;  and  just  look  at 
that  for  muscle!"  cheerily  returned  the  girl,  as  she 
swept  up  her  loose  sleeve  and  revealed  a  truly  sturdy 
arm.  "I  can  catch  the  next  train,  if  I  step  lively,  and 
I'll  be  back  on  the  one  that  leaves  at  five.  Make  out 
your  order,  Mr.  Minturn,  and  I'll  be  ready  before  you 
can  say  'Jac^  Robinson.'  " 

She  bounded  into  the  house  and  was  halfway  upstairs 
before  Mr.  Minturn  could  get  out  his  notebook  and 
pencil,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  was  down  again 
equipped  for  her  trip. 

"  'Jack  Robinson,'  "  solemnly  repeated  Mr.  Minturn, 
but  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he  handed  her 
the  leaf  which  he  had  torn  from  his  notebook,  with 
his  order  and  the  address  of  a  Boston  firm  written  on 
it.  "Now  be  off,  you  sprite,  or  you  will  lose  your  train, 
and  you  shall  have  your  reward  later,"  he  concluded,  as 
the  trap,  which  he  had  ordered  up  from  the  stable, 
dashed  to  the  door. 

"I'll  get  my  reward  on  the  way,"  laughed  the  girl, 
throwing  him  a  bright  glance  over  her  shoulder  as 
she  ran  nimbly  down  the  steps  and  sprang  into  the  car- 
riage, little  thinking  how  true  her  lightly-spoken  words 
would  prove. 


340  KATHERINE'S 

Four  hours  later  the  trap  was  again  sent  to  the  sta- 
tion to  meet  her,  and,  a  five  minutes'  drive,  behind  the 
pair  of  spirited  beauties,  landed  her  at  home  once  more. 

Much  had  been  accomplished  during  Jennie's  ab- 
sence, and  the  broad  veranda  was  like  a  sylvan  bower, 
the  last  nail  having  just  been  driven,  the  last  wreath 
and  festoon  put  in  place ;  while  the  Seabrooks  were  on 
the  point  of  going  home  to  dinner  as  the  carriage 
stopped  before  the  door. 

She  looked  pale  and  appeared  to  see  no  one;  but, 
leaping  to  the  ground,  sprang  up  the  steps,  touched 
Katherine  on  the  arm,  saying  briefly,  "Come!"  then 
fled  inside  the  house. 

Everyone  wondered  at  her  strange  behavior,  and 
Katherine  immediately  followed  her  to  her  room. 

The  moment  she  appeared  Jennie  caught  her  in  her 
arms  and  swung  to  the  door. 

"Katherine!  Katherine!"  she  cried,  breathlessly, 
"I'm  found ! — I'm  found  ! — I'm  not  a  'stray  waif — I'm 
not  -lost  any  longer — I'm — I'm " 

She  could  say  no  more— her  breath  was  spent;  her 
emotion  mastered  her;  and,  bowing  her  head  on  her 
companion's  shoulder,  she  burst  into  passionate  weep- 
ing that  shook  her  from  head  to  foot. 

Katherine  held  her  in  a  close,  loving  embrace  for  a 
moment,  then  gently  forced  her  into  a  rocker  and  knelt 
beside  her,  still  keeping  her  arms  around  her,  while  she 
worked  mentally  for  dominion  and  harmony. 

But  the  flood-gates  were  open  wide.  The  pent-up 
yearnings  of  years  were  let  loose,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  the  storm  began  to  abate. 

Once  or  twice  she  attempted  to  say  something,  then 


SHEAVES  341 

lapsed  into  fresh  weeping,  her  self-control  strangely 
shattered ;  for  Jennie  had  seldom  been  known  to  shed 
tears  in  the  presence  of  others,  even  under  great  pres- 
sure. 

"Hush !"  at  length  commanded  Katherine,  with  gen- 
tle authority;  "be  still  and  know  who  has  you  in  His 
care." 

"That's  pa-part  of  it !— to — to  think  that  I— I  didn't 
'know' ;  and  now  it  has  c-come  when  I  never  really 
had  f-f-faith  to  be-believe  it  would.  I — do-don't  d-de- 
serve  it,"  sobbed  the  girl,  with  another  helpless  out- 
burst. 

While  Katherine  is  patiently  waiting  and  working  for 
the  return  of  a  more  tranquil  frame  of  mind,  let  us 
take  a  backward  glance  and  follow  Jennie  on  her  event- 
ful trip  to  Boston. 

Upon  her  arrival  in  town  she  went  directly  to  the 
store  to  which  she  had  been  directed  and  where  her 
order  was  immediately  filled;  then  finding  that  she 
had  more  than  an  hour  on  her  hands  before  her  train 
would  go,  she  left  her  -package  to  be  called  for  and 
slipped  into  a  large  department  store,  to  look  at  some 
pictures  that  had  been  recently  and  extensively  adver- 
tised in  the  papers. 

But  before  reaching  the  room  where  they  were  on 
exhibition,  she  was  attracted  another  way,  by  seeing  a 
crowd  of  people  standing  before  an  alcove  that  had  been 
curtained  off,  and  where  a  so-called  "transformation 
scene"  was  being  enacted  before  admiring  and  wonder- 
ing observers. 

She  had  never  seen  anything  of  the  kind  and  stood 


342  KATHERINE'S 

like  one  entranced,  while  an  exquisite  marble  statue, 
representing  a  beautiful  girl  holding  a  basket  of  flowers 
in  her  hands,  slowly  and  mysteriously  took  on  a  lifelike 
appearance,  until  at  length  she  stood  a  living,  breathing 
maiden,  smiling  brightly  into  the  faces  around  her, 
while  her  basket  of  flowers  had  also  been  changed  to 
a  cradle  of  bulrushes,  in  the  midst  of  which  lay  an  in- 
fant reaching  up  eager  hands  to  the  lovely  woman 
above  him. 

Jennie  watched  this  scene — supposed  to  represent 
"Pharaoh's  Daughter  and  The  Infant  Moses" — change 
the  second  time,  then  turned  abruptly  away,  just  as 
the  metamorphosis  back  to  marble  began,  to  find  herself 
confronted  by  a  fine-looking,  middle-aged  gentleman, 
who  was  gazing  with  strange  intentness  at  her. 

She  would  have  passed  him  without  a  second  glance, 
but,  lifting  his  hat  to  her,  he  courteously  inquired : 

"Young  lady,  will  you  kindly  tell  me  your  name?" 

Jennie  flushed  with  sudden  embarrassment.  She  had 
often  been  warned  never  to  converse  with  strangers 
who  might  accost  her;  but,  in  this  instance,  while  she 
had  no  intention  of  telling  him  who  she  was,  she  felt 
exceedingly  awkward  to  refuse  to  grant  a  request  so 
politely  solicited. 

"I  hope  you  will  pardon  me,"  he  continued  as  he 
observed  her  confusion.  "I  am  aware  that  I  appear 
presumptuous ;  but  you  are  the  counterpart  of  a  sister 
whom  I  lost  years  ago,  and  whose  daughter  I  have  been 
vainly  seeking  during  the  last  five  years." 

Jennie's  heart  bounded  into  her  throat  at  this,  and 
her  discretion  instantly  vanished  in  her  eagerness  to 


SHEAVES  343 

verify  a  startling  suspicion  that  had  popped  into  her 
head  while  he  was  speakng. 

"Oh,  sir,"  she  began,  with  a  nervous  catch  in  her 
breath.  "I  am  called  Jennie  Wild,  but  that  isn't  really 
my  name — I  don't  know  what  it  is.  My  father  and 
mother  were  both  killed  in  a  railroad  accident  when  I 
was  a  baby,  and  a  kind  lady  adopted  me  and — perhaps 

— oh,  do  you  think "  but  her  voice  failed  her  utterly 

at  this  point,  for  her  heart  was  panting  painfully  from 
mingled  hope  and  fear. 

The  stranger  smiled  genially  down  upon  her,  but 
his  own  voice  was  far  from  steady,  as  he  said : 

"Suppose,  Miss  Wild,  we  go  and  sit  down  over  yon- 
der, where  we  will  be  by  ourselves" — indicating  a  re- 
mote corner  of  the  room — "and,  perhaps,  we  can  find 
out  a  little  more  about  this  double-puzzle;  at  least, 
we  can  ascertain  whether  your  facts  and  mine  will  fit 
together." 

He  led  the  way  and  placed  a  chair  for  her  in  a  posi- 
tion to  shield  her  from  observation  as  they  talked,  and 
then,  sitting  down  beside  her,  asked  her  to  please  tell 
him  as  much  of  her  history  as  she  was  willing  he 
should  know. 

But,  as  we  are  aware,  that  was  very  little,  indeed,  and 
took  only  a  few  minutes  to  relate. 

"Well,  my  child,"  the  man  observed,  when  she  con- 
cluded, "there  is  not  much  in  what  you  have  told  me 
that  throws  any  light  upon  what  I  am  anxious  to  learn ; 
your  face  and  form  alone  seem  to  indicate  kinship,  and 
that  may  be  but  a  singular  coincidence.  All  the  same, 
you  shall  hear  my  story. 

"Years  ago  I  had  a  sister  whom  I  loved  very  dearly. 


344  KATHERINE'S 

She  was  much  older  than  I  and  took  the  place  of  my 
mother  when  I  lost  her.  I  lived  with  this  sister,  after 
her  marriage,  until  I  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  and 
grew  to  love  the  little  daughter  who  came  to  her  when 
I  was  a  boy  of  ten,  with  a  tenderness  which  I  have  no 
words  to  express.  At  the  age  of  eighteen,  an  East 
India  merchant,  who  dealt  in  spices,  coffee,  tea,  etc., 
and  who,  having  no  children  of  his  own,  had  made  a 
kind  of  protege  of  me,  proposed  that  I  come  to  him 
and  learn  his  business.  His  partner  in  the  East  had 
recently  died;  he  was  about  to  go  abroad  to  take  his 
place  and  suggested  that  this  would  give  me  a  fine 
start  in  life.  It  was  too  good  an  opportunity  to  be 
slighted,  and  I  eagerly  accepted  it.  Years  passed ;  my 
sister  and  her  husband  both  died — their  daughter  mar- 
ried and  settled  in  a  thriving  town,  not  far  from  San 
Francisco,  Cal.  Then,  after  a  time,  word  came  that 
there  was  another  little  girl  in  the  daughter's  home, 
and  she  wrote  begging  me  to  come  back  to  her,  if  only 
for  a  visit,  for  I  was  now  her  only  living  relative  and 
her  lonely  heart  was  hungry  for  me.  I  immediately 
made  plans  to  do  so;  but  my  partner — who  formerly 
had  been  my  employer — was  suddenly  taken  away  and 
I  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  trip.  Nearly  a  year  later 
my  niece  wrote  very  hurriedly,  telling  me  that  her  hus- 
band had  obtained  a  fine  position  in  Chicago,  that  they 
had  sold  their  home  and  were  on  the  point  of  leaving 
for  that  city,  but  she  would  send  me  their  address  when 
they  were  settled.  That  was  the  last  I  ever  heard 
from  her,  although  I  wrote  numberless  letters  of  in- 
quiry to  their  former  place  of  residence  and  also  to 
Chicago.  Complications  in  business  made  it  impos- 


SHEAVES  345 

sible  for  me  to  come  to  the  United  States  to  institute 
a  personal  search,  until  about  five  years  ago,  and  I  have 
spent  these  years  looking  for  the  dear  girl  who  so 
strangely  disappeared  after  leaving  her  California 
home.  I  have  been  in  nearly  every  large  city  in  the 
land,  and  in  each  have  advertised  extensively,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  A  month  ago  I  came  to  Boston  for  the 
second  time,  and  have  liked  the  place  so  well  I  am  loath 
to  leave  it.  While  looking  at  the  transformation  scene 
over  yonder,  I  was  attracted  by  your  remarkable  re- 
semblance to  my  sister,  as  she  was  at  your  age,  and 
could  not  refrain  from  speaking  to  you,  hoping  that 
I  might  hear  a  familiar  name.  Miss  Wild,  can  you 
tell  me  just  when  this  accident,  which  deprived  you  of 
your  parents,  occurred?" 

Jennie  gave  him  the  date  of  the  month  and  the  year, 
and  her  companion's  face  changed  as  he  heard  it. 

"That  was  the  same  month  and  the  year  that  my 
niece  left  California  to  go  to  Chicago,"  he  said.  "I  be- 
lieve— I  wonder By  the  way,  Miss  Wild" — with  a 

sudden  start — "was  there  nothing  about  you  when  that 
woman  found  you,  by  which  you  could  have  been  iden- 
tified ?" 

"Oh,  yes !  I  never  thought !"  panted  Jennie,  as  her 
trembling  hands  flew  to  her  throat. 

In  a  trice  she  had  unclasped  the  string  of  amber 
beads  which  she  always  wore  inside  her  clothing,  and 
laid  them  in  his  hand. 

The  man  grew  very  white  as  he  saw  them,  turned  the 
curious  clasp  over  and  read  the  initials  engraven  there. 
He  did  not  speak  for  a  full  minute.  He  was  evidently 


346  KATHERINE'S 

deeply  moved,  and  Jennie  sat  watching  him  with  bated 
breath  and  tensely  clasped  hands. 

"My  dear,"  he  finally  said,  "this  is  the  'open  sesame' 
to  everything.  This  and  your  remarkable  resemblance 
to  my  sister,  together  with  the  date  you  have  given  me, 
prove  to  me  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  you  are 
the  daughter  of  my  niece." 

"O-h !"  breathed  Jennie,  with  tremulous  eagerness. 

"The  initials  'A.  A.  to  M.  A.  J.,'  on  the  clasp,  stand 
for  'Alfred  Arnold  to  Mildred  Arnold  Jennison,'  "  the 
gentleman  continued.  "I  am  Alfred  Arnold.  When 
my  niece  wrote  me  of  the  birth  of  her  little  daughter, 
and  that  she  had  named  her  'Mildred'  for  her  mother, 
and  'Arnold,'  for  me,  I  bought  this  string  of  amber  in 
Calcutta,  had  the  initials  engraved  on  the  clasp  and 
sent  it  to  the  tiny  stranger." 

"Then — then  I  am — you  are "  began  Jennie,  fal- 

teringly. 

"You  are  my  grandniece — I  am  your  great-uncle. 
My  child,  do  you  think  you  will  care  to  own  the  rela- 
tionship ?" 

But  the  girl  was,  for  the  moment,  beyond  the  power 
of  speech. 

To  have  the  harassing  mystery  of  her  life  solved  at 
last ;  to  learn  something  definite  regarding  her  family, 
even  though  no  one  remained  to  claim  her  save  this  dis- 
tant relative,  yet  to  find  in  him  a  cultured  gentleman, 
and  reaching  out  to  her  with  tender  yearning,  as  the 
only  link  with  his  past — was  more  than  she  could  bear 
with  composure.  To  have  tried  to  speak  just  then 


SHEAVES  347 

would  have  precipitated  a  burst  of  tears  and  she 
"wouldn't  cry  in  public." 

So  she  could  only  throw  out  an  impulsive,  trem- 
bling hand  to  him  and  smile  faintly  into  the  grave,  kind 
face  beside  her. 

He  folded  it  within  his  own  and  patted  it  soothingly 
with  a  fatherly  air. 

"Little  girl,  little  girl !"  he  said,  huskily,  but  tenderly, 
"I  can  hardly  believe  it !  I  was  becoming  discouraged 
in  my  quest;  but  I  begin  to  think  now  that  life  is  worth 
living,  even  though  the  dear  one  I  sought  is  gone  and 
I  shall  never  see  her  again  in  this  life." 

"My  mother!  my  father — have  you  their "  but 

Jennie  was  obliged  to  stop  again  because  of  the  re- 
fractory lump  in  her  throat. 

"Yes,  I  have  numerous  photographs  of  them  all," 
Mr.  Arnold  replied,  and  instinctively  comprehending 
her  thought.  "I  even  have  one  of  baby  Mildred,"  he 
added,  with  a  smile,  "taken  when  she  was  six  months 
old.  Your  mother's  maiden  name  was  Pauline  West, 
and  I  have  some  beautiful  letters  from  her  that  you 
will  love  to  read  some  day." 

"Do  I  look  like  her  at  all  ?"  queried  Jennie,  who  was 
beginning  to  forget  herself  and  grow  more  composed 
as  she  drank  in  these  interesting  facts. 

"No;  she  resembled  her  father,  and  was  light,  with 
blue  eyes,  though  you  have  a  way  of  speaking  that 
reminds  me  of  her.  But  you  are  almost  the  image  of 
my  sister — her  mother — who  was  dark,  with  black  eyes, 
and  hair  that  curled,  just  as  yours  does,  about  her  fore- 
head," Mr.  Arnold  replied,  and  added:  "Your  father 


348  KATHERINE'S 

I  never  saw,  but  I  have  some  pictures  of  a  very  nice- 
looking  gentleman  whose  autograph,  'Charles  E.  Jen- 
nison,'  is  written  on  the  back." 

"And  my  name  is  'Mildred  Arnold  Jennison,'  "  said 
Jennie,  and  drawing  a  long  breath  at  the  unfamiliar 
sounds. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  of  it.  With  your  resemblance  to  An- 
nie, my  sister,  the  dates  you  have  given  me  and  this 
string  of  beads  I  could  ask  for  no  stronger  proofs,"  re- 
turned the  gentleman  as  he  gave  back  the  amber  neck- 
lace. 

"It  is  a  very  pretty  name,  I  think,"  said  the  girl,  a 
happy  little  laugh  breaking  from  her,  "and  I'm  glad 
there  is  a  'Jennie'  in  it,  for  I've  been  called  that  so 
long  I  would  hardly  know  how  to  answer  to  any  other. 
But — oh!  what  time  is  it?"  she  cried,  starting  to  her 
feet.  "I  had  forgotten  all  about  my  train !" 

Mr.  Arnold  showed  her  his  watch,  whereupon  she 
breathed  more  freely. 

"There  is  plenty  of  time,"  she  added,  more  com- 
posedly, "but  I  think  I  must  go  now,  for  I  have  a  pack- 
age to  get  from  another  store.  I  hope,  though,  this 
hasn't  been  a  'transformation  scene'  that  will  turn  back 
to  marble  or — blankness,"  she  concluded/  with  a  nerv- 
ous laugh  as  she  glanced  towards  the  curtained  alcove 
where  they  had  met. 

"Do  not  fear — it  is  all  living  truth,  and  we  are  go- 
ing to  make  it  seem  more  real  every  day,"  cheerily  re- 
sponded Mr.  Arnold.  "I  will  see  you  to  your  train 
and  we  will  thus  have  a  little  more  time  together ;  then, 
very  soon,  I  would  like  to  come  to  you  and  meet  the 
friends  who  have  been  so  kind  to  you." 


SHEAVES  349 

Jennie  asked  if  he  could  make  it  convenient  to  come 
to  Manchester  on  Friday,  explaining  why  she  could  not 
make  the  appointment  for  the  next  day;  and  it  was  so 
arranged. 

He  accompanied  her  to  the  station  and  put  her  aboard 
her  train,  making  himself  very  entertaining  on  the  way 
by  recounting  interesting  incidents  connected  with  his 
life  and  travels  in  the  East. 

"You're  sure  you're  a  bona-fide  uncle  and  no  vanish- 
ing 'genie' f"  she  half  jestingly,  half  wistfully  remarked 
as  the  warning  "All  aboard !"  sounded  and  she  gave 
him  her  hand  at  parting. 

"I'm  sure  of  the  relationship,  and  I  think  I  am  of 
too  substantial  proportions  to  become  invisible  to  mortal 
eyes  at  a  moment's  warning.  Whether  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  vanish  in  any  other  way  will  depend  upon 
yourself  later  on,"  Mr.  Arnold  smilingly  replied,  as  he 
courteously  lifted  his  hat  and  bowed  himself  away. 

But  during  the  ride  home  it  seemed  too  wonderful  to 
be  true.  She  had  dreamed  of  a  similar  revelation  so 
many  times,  only  to  awake  in  the  morning  and  find 
herself  plain  Jennie  Wild,  the  same  stray  waif  still 
hopelessly  bemoaning  the  mystery  that  enshrouded  her 
origin,  that  she  could  hardly  believe  she  was  not  dream- 
ing now. 

"Mildred  Arnold  Jennison!  Mildred  Arnold  Jenni- 
son !"  she  repeated  over  and  over.  "I  don't  know  her ; 
I  can  hardly  believe  she  really  exists ;  it  seems  more 
like  one  of  the  many  vagaries  of  'Wild  Jennie'  who  was 
ever  fond  of  imagining  herself  some  poor  little  princess 
in  disguise." 


350  KATHERINE'S 

And  thus,  by  the  time  she  reached  home,  she  had 
worked  herself  to  the  highest  pitch  of  nervous  excite- 
ment, which  culminated  in  Katherine's  arms,  and  which 
she  was  patiently  trying  to  overcome  when  we  left 
them  to  take  our  "backward  glance." 


SHEAVES  351 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Conclusion. 

By  the  time  Jennie  had  given  Katherine  a  brief  out- 
line of  what  had  occurred  during  the  afternoon,  the 
dinner  bell  sounded  and  warned  them  that  they  must 
put  aside  romance  and  startling  revelations  for  the 
present  and  come  down  to  the  more  practical  and  pro- 
saic affairs  of  life. 

"But,  Katherine,  I  can't  go  down,"  Jennie  exclaimed 
as  she  sprang  to  the  mirror  and  saw  her  red  and  swol- 
len eyes.  "I  look  a  perfect  fright." 

"Well,  of  course,  you  need  not;  I  will  send  you  up 
something  nice,  and  you  can  rest  and  try  to  compose 
yourself,  for  you  will  want  to  tell  us  all  more  of  this 
wonderful  story  by  and  by,"  Katherine  considerately 
returned  as  she  arose  from  her  kneeling  posture  to  obey 
the  summons  from  below. 

"But  you  may  set  the  ball  rolling,  dearie.  I  want 
them  all  to  know,  and  they  must  have  thought  I  had  a 
queer  'bee  in  my  bonnet'  when  I  got  home." 

"Very  well,  I  will  formally  announce  the  advent  of 
our  new  guest,  Miss  Mildred  Arnold  Jennison,  if  you 
wish,  and  I  know  that  everyone  will  heartily  rejoice 
with  you,"  was  the  smiling  reply. 

Jennie  threw  her  arms  impulsively  around  her  friend. 

"Oh,  Katherine !  how  good  you  always  are  to  me !" 


352  KATHERINE'S 

she  cried.  "What  a  blessed  thing  it  was  for  me  that 
you  chose  to  go  to  Hilton !  If  you  hadn't  I  wouldn't 
have  known  about  Science — I  never  should  have  come 
to  Boston,  and  then  I  would  have  missed  to-day, 
an " 

"Oh,  Jennie  !  Jennie  !  God  governs  all ;  He  has  more 
ways  than  one  of  leading  His  children,  and  when  they 
are  ready  for  the  Truth  it  is  always  reyealed  to  them," 
chidingly  interposed  her  friend,  but  dropping  a  fond 
kiss  upon  the  flushed  cheek  nearest  her. 

"Well,  but  it  was  you  who  made  me  'ready'  for  it," 
the  girl  persisted.  "You  were  so  dear  yourself  you 
made  me  want  to  be  dear,  too,  and  so  my  heart  opened 
to  receive  the  Truth.  And,  Katherine" — impressively 
— "every  day  since  I  got  your  letter,  just  after  auntie 
went  away,  I  have  said  over  to  myself  what  you  wrote 
me,  and  tried  to  believe  it.  It  was  this  :  'Your  identity 
is  not  lost ;  you  are  God's  child,  and  that  child  can  never 
be  deprived  of  her  birthright,  or  any  other  good  neces- 
sary to  her  happiness  and  well-being' ;  only  I  put  it  in 
the  first  person." 

"Dear,  you  have  made  it  a  true  prayer,  and  to-day 
you  have  received  in  part  the  answer  to  it,"  said  Kath- 
erine, softly. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  Jennie,  earnestly. 

"Indeed,  I  do.  You  know  the  promise,  'If  ye  ask 
anything  in  My  name,  believing'?  But  I  suppose  I 
must  go  down,"  and  Katherine  turned  to  leave  the 
room. 

Jennie  stood  still,  thinking  deeply  for  a  moment. 
Then,  before  her  friend  could  reach  the  stairs,  she 
called  out,  the  old  cheery  ring  in  her  tones : 


SHEAVES  353 

"You  needn't  send  up  anything,  you  blessing;  I'll 
wash  my  face  and  come  down.  I  don't  care  if  my  eyes 
are  red ;  you  all  love  me  and  won't  mind." 

So,  after  a  little,  this  child  of  impulse  joined  the 
family  below,  her  face  radiant  \vith  happiness,  in  spite 
of  the  evidences  of  recent  tears,  and  everybody  ex- 
hibited the  liveliest  interest  in  the  wonderful  sequel  to 
her  life  of  mystery,  and  expressed,  most  cordially,  their 
joy  in  view  of  her  good  fortune  in  finding  some  one 
akin  to  her. 

"Tell  me  what  he  looks  like,  honey.  I'm  just  ex- 
piring with  curiosity  and  impatience  to  see  this  great 
magician  who  has  transformed  everything  for  you," 
said  Sadie,  with  her  good-natured  drawl,  after  Jennie 
had  given  them  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  interview 
with  her  relative. 

"You  just  wait  till  you  see  this  'magician,'  as  you  call 
him,"  retorted  the  girl,  with  a  proud  little  toss  of  her 
head.  "Anyone  can  tell,  with  half  a  glance,  that  he's 
an  out-and-out  gentleman.  And,  don't  you  know" — 
with  a  long  sigh  of  content — "it  is  such  a  comfortable 
feeling,  for  I've  often  had  a  very  lively  squirming  time 
all  by  myself  when  I've  tried  to  focus  my  mental  kodak 
upon  some  imaginary  shade  of  my  ancestors  to  see 
what  he  was  like." 

It  was  a  very  happy  company  that  congregated  on 
the  verandas  the  next  morning  to  complete  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  reunion  of  the  afternoon. 

Dr.  Stanley  and  the  Seabrooks  came  over  again  to 
help  arrange  flowers,  hang  the  lanterns,  etc.,  and  they 
were  no  less  rejoiced  than  her  other  friends  when  in- 


354  KATHERINE'S 

formed  of  Jennie's  happy  discoveries  of  the  previous 
day. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do  without  our  'Jennie 
Wild'?"  smilingly  inquired  Prof.  Seabrook,  as  he  laid 
a  friendly  hand  on  her  curly  black  head.  "I  am  afraid 
a  good  many  tongues  will  trip  a  good  many  times  be- 
fore they  get  used  to  'Miss  Mildred  Arnold  Jennison.'  " 

"Well,  professor,  you'll  have  the  same  Jennie — at 
least  for  the  next  two  years ;  for  I'm  never  going  to  be 
called  anything  else  by  my  old  friends,"  returned  the 
girl,  in  a  positive  tone.  "I  don't  quite  know  how  we 
are  going  to  manage  about  the  name,"  she  added,  re- 
flectively. "I'm  free  to  admit,  though" — with  an  arch 
look — "I  think  my  new  trimmings  are  rather  swell; 
but  I  can't  give  up  the  Jennie.  I'm  sure  Jennie  Jenni- 
son wouldn't  do — too  much  Jennie,  you  know.  But 
I'm  not  going  to  worry  about  that  to-day;  I'm  too 
happy,  and  there's  too  much  to  be  done.  Mrs.  Min- 
turn,  where  is  Katherine  ?"  she  suddenly  inquired,  with 
a  roguish  glance  at  a  stalwart  form  that  was  restlessly 
pacing  the  veranda. 

"She  is  in  the  library,  answering  a  letter  for  me;  she 
will  be  through  very  shortly.  Do  you  want  her  par- 
ticularly, dear?"  innocently  questioned  the  lady  who 
was  absorbed  in  filling  a  jardiniere  with  scarlet  gera- 
niums. 

"N-o,  not  very;  only  I've  been  growing  conscious 
during  the  last  few  minutes  that  there  is  a — er — some- 
thing lacking  in  the  atmosphere.  Dr.  Stanley,  do  have 
this  rocker,"  she  interposed,  with  a  sly  smile,  and  push- 
ing one  towards  him,  "it's  too  warm  this  morning  for 
such  a  waste  of  energy." 


SHEAVES  355 

Either  by  chance  or  intention,  she  had  swung  the 
chair  directly  opposite  a  low  window  that  commanded 
a  view  of  the  library,  where  Katherine,  in  a  familiar 
gown  of  pale  yellow  chambrey,  was  oblivious  to  all  but 
the  work  in  hand.  The  young  man  shot  a  searching 
look  at  the  mischievous  elf;  then,  with  a  quiet  "thank 
you,"  deliberately  took  the  proffered  seat,  but,  ten  min- 
utes later,  he  also  was  missing  from  the  company. 

He  found  Katherine  seated  before  her  own  private 
desk,  and  in  the  act  of  stamping  the  letter  which  he  had 
just  seen  her  addressing. 

"I  hope  I  do  not  intrude  ?"  he  observed,  in  a  tone  of 
polite  inquiry. 

"No,  I  am  just  through,"  she  replied,  as  she  care- 
fully pressed  the  still  moist  stamp  in  place  with  a  small 
blotter. 

"I  have  come  to  ask  if  you  have  a  copy  of  that  flash- 
light picture  of  the  'Flower  Carnival/  "  he  resumed. 
"Dorrie's  is  at  home,  but  she  wishes  to  have  some  more 
copies,  and  as  I  am  going  to  town  to-morrow  I  thought 
I  would  attend  to  it." 

"Yes,  I  have  mine  right  here,"  said  Katherine,  as  she 
took  a  small  key  from  a  drawer  and  proceeded  to  un- 
lock a  compartment  in  her  desk,  smilingly  explaining 
as  she  did  so :  "This  is  where  I  keep  my  choicest  treas- 
ures— things  that  I  do  not  let  everyone  see." 

"Must  I  look  away?"  demanded  her  companion,  in 
a  mock-injured  tone. 

"Oh !  no" — with  a  silvery  ripple — "I  am  not  quite  so 
secretive  as  that." 

Removing  a  box,  she  carefully  placed  it  one  side, 
then  brought  forth  a  package  nicely  wrapped  in  tissue 


356  KATHERINE'S 

paper.  Unfolding  this,  she  disclosed  several  photo- 
graphs, and  among  them  was  the  one  he  had  asked  for. 

"How  fortunate  you  were  to  get  so  good  a  picture !" 
she  observed,  and  studied  it  a  moment  before  giving  it 
to  him.  "How  happy  Dorrie  looks  !  Although,  to  see 
her  now,  one  would  scarcely  believe  that  this  was  ever 
taken  for  her." 

"No,  indeed !  What  a  marvelous  change  a  year  has 
made  in  that  child !"  said  Dr.  Stanley,  in  an  animated 
tone. 

"  'A  year !'  I  am  sure  you  do  not  quite  mean  that," 
and  she  lifted  a  questioning  look  to  him. 

"No,  I  do  not — thank  you  for  correcting  me,"  he 
gravely  rejoined.  "I  know  time  has  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it — that  we  owe  it  all  to  Christ — Truth.  How 
watchful  one  needs  to  be  of  one's  words,  in  Science." 

"Yes,  or  one  is  liable  to  give  wrong  impressions  with- 
out meaning  to.  It  is  scientific  to  be  exact,  and" — 
with  a  soft  sigh — "we  all  have  to  learn  that  by  being 
continually  on  guard." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  after  she  ceased 
speaking,  during  which  Katherine  began  to  be  con- 
scious that  the  atmosphere  was  becoming  charged  with 
an  unaccustomed  element,  and  she  hastened  to  observe, 
as  she  glanced  towards  the  veranda : 

"How  lovely  the  house  is  looking!  Have  you  your 
camera  here?" 

"I  am  sorry  I  have  not,  for  we  ought  to  have  some 
views  of  it.  We  will  have,"  he  added.  "I  will  have  a 
photographer  from  the  village  come  up  before  the  day 
is  over  and  take  some." 

As  he  concluded,  by  some  careless  handling,  the  pic- 


"He  turned  a  radiant  face  to  her,  and  her  eyes  drooped  in  confusion 
before  the  look  in  his,  while  the  color  burned  brighter  in  her  cheeks." 

(See  page  357) 


SHEAVES  357 

ture  of  the  Flower  Carnival  slipped  from  his  grasp,  and 
in  trying  to  recover  it  his  arm  came  in  contact  with  the 
box,  which  Katherine  had  taken  from  her  treasure 
closet,  displacing  the  cover  and  almost  upsetting  it. 

"Oh !"  cried  the  girl,  in  a  startled  tone,  but  flushing 
scarlet  as  she  saved  it  from  falling  and  hastily  replaced 
the  cover.  She  was  not  quick  enough,  however,  to 
prevent  her  companion  seeing,  with  a  sudden  heart 
bound  of  joy,  that  the  box  contained  a  spray  of  dried 
and  faded  moss  rosebuds. 

He  turned  a  radiant  face  to  her,  and  her  eyes  drooped 
in  confusion  before  the  look  in  his,  while  the  color 
burned  brighter  in  her  cheeks. 

"Miss  Minturn — Katherine !  Did  you  prize  them 
enough  to  keep  them — here?"  and  he  touched  the  door 
of  her  "treasure  closet." 

"They  are  a — a  souvenir  of  a  delightful  evening — 
my  last  at  Hilton,"  she  faltered. 

His  countenance  fell ;  yet  something  in  the  tense  at- 
titude of  the  figure  beside  him,  in  her  quickened  breath- 
ing and  fluctuating  color  emboldened  him  to  ask : 
•     "Did  they  convey  no  message  to  you?  had  they  any 
special  significance?    Tell  me — tell  me,  please!" 

"They  had  not — then,"  she  confessed,  almost  in- 
audibly. 

"Then?"  he  repeated,  eagerly. 

"I  did  not  know — I  had  not  looked " 

"You  did  not  know  their  language  then ;  but  you  do 
now,  dear?"  he  said,  a  glad  ring  in  his  tones.  "And 
may  I  tell  you  that  my  heart  and  all  its  dearest  hopes 
went  with  those  little  voiceless  messengers  ?  That  was 
why " 


358  KATHERINE'S 

"Oh!  Uncle  Phillip,  the  carriage  has  come  for  us 
and  we  are  waiting  for  you,"  cried  Dorothy's  voice 
from  the  low,  open  window  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  a  feeling  of  im- 
patience with  his  niece  stirred  in  Phillip  Stanley's 
heart.  "Why !  is  anything  the  matter  ?"  she  added,  as 
she  observed  Katherine's  averted  eyes  and  unusual 
color  and  her  uncle's  unaccustomed  intensity. 

"I'll  be  with  you  in  a  minute,  Dorrie,"  he  said.  "Just 
one  word,"  he  pleaded,  bending  nearer  to  Katherine, 
"have  you  treasured  my  messengers  because  of  their 
message  ?" 

But  Katherine  could  not  speak  even  the  "one  word" — 
the  fluttering  of  her  startled  heart,  the  throbbing  in  her 
throat  robbed  her  of  the  power  to  make  a  sound.  The 
most  she  could  do  was  to  lift  her  eyes,  for  one  brief 
instant,  and  smile  faintly  into  the  fond  face  looking 
down  upon  her.  It  was  enough,  however.  Phillip 
Stanley  stood  erect  and  drew  in  a  long,  free  breath. 

"Coming,  Dorrie !"  he  called  out,  as  the  girl  made 
a  movement  to  step  over  the  low  sill  into  the  room; 
"no,  there  is  nothing  the  matter — I  came  to.  ask  Miss 
Minturn  for  the  Flower  Carnival  picture,  to  have  it 
copied  for  you." 

"How  nice  of  you,  Uncle  Phillip!  You  are  always 
so  thoughtful  for  me !"  said  unsuspicious  Dorothy. 

The  man's  laugh  rang  out  full  and  clear,  but  with  a 
note  of  genuine  mirth  in  it  that  made  Katherine's 
cheeks  tingle  afresh,  for  it  told  her  that  his  main  ob- 
ject in  seeking  her  had  not  been  to  get  the  picture. 

"Oh!  if  that  child  would  but  vanish!"  he  thought, 
with  an  adoring  look  at  the  pretty,  drooping  figure  in  its 


SHEAVES  359 

dainty  robe  of  pale  yellow;  but  little  Miss  Marplot 
evidently  had  no  such  intention,  and  he  reluctantly 
turned  away  to  save  Katherine  further  embarrassment. 
"Good-by,  Miss — Katherine;  we  will  be  with  you 
again  this  afternoon,"  he  said,  with  a  thrill  in  his  voice 
as  it  lingered  over  the  name ;  then  he  stepped  through 
the  low  window,  slipped  his  arm  around  unconscious 
Dorrie  and  led  her  away  to  the  carriage. 

The  reunion  of  the  afternoon  was  a  most  delightful 
occasion.  Mr.  Minturn  had  chartered  a  yacht  to  take 
the  whole  party  out  for  a  few  hours'  sail,  and,  the  day 
being  perfect,  the  sea  in  its  bluest  attire  and  quietest 
mood,  there  was  nothing  to  mar  their  enjoyment,  and 
the  experience  proved  ideal  for  everyone. 

They  returned  just  at  sunset,  to  find  numerous  dain- 
tily laid  tables  awaiting  them  on  one  of  the  broad  ve- 
randas and  groaning  beneath  an  abundance  of  the  many 
luxuries  that  had  been  provided  to  tempt  and  regale; 
while  spotlessly  attired  maids  and  white- jacketed  men 
were  in  attendance  to  serve  the  hungry  excursionists. 
As  twilight  dropped  down  o'er  land  and  sea,  as  the 
numerous  lanterns  were  lighted  and  flung  their  soft 
radiance  and  vivid  spots  of  color  upon  the  scene,  while 
a  fine  orchestra  discoursed  melodiously  from  some 
green-embowered  nook,  the  place  seemed  like  an  en- 
chanted realm  where  one  might  almost  expect  to  dis- 
cern, flitting  among  the  playful  shadows,  those  weird 
forms  that  people  the  elf  land  of  childhood's  fancy — 

"Fairies,  black,  gray,  green  and  white, 
Those  moonshine  revelers  and  shades  of  night." 

And  thus  the  evening  was  spent  in  a  delightfully  in- 


360  KATHERINE'S 

formal  manner,  each  and  all  appearing  to  feel  as  if  they 
were  members  of  one  happy  family,  as,  indeed,  they 
were,  in  Truth  and  Love. 

But  the  final  farewells  had  to  be  said  at  length,  for 
railway  time-tables  are  absolute,  and  the  last  train  for 
Boston  would  leave  at  ten  o'clock. 

At  half -past  nine  the  carriages  were  at  the  door  and 
fifteen  minutes  later  all  were  gone,  excepting  the  Sea- 
brooks,  who  lingered  for  a  few  last  words  with  the 
family,  and  to  take  leave  of  Miss  Reynolds,  who  would 
go  home  on  the  morrow. 

They  were  all  standing  together  in  the  brilliantly 
lighted  reception  hall,  Dorothy  with  one  arm  linked 
within  her  father's,  the  other  encircling  Katherine's 
waist. 

"Hasn't  it  been  a  wonderful  day,  papa?"  said  the 
girl,  during  a  little  lull  in  the  general  conversation. 

"It  certainly  has,  dear/'  he  replied,  giving  the  small 
arm  a  fond  pressure. 

"And  see  !"  she  continued,  glancing  around  the  circle, 
"all  of  us,  except  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Minturn,  belong 
to  Miss  Katherine." 

"Well,  bless  my  heart!"  here  laughingly  interposed 
Mr.  Minturn.  "Miss  Dorothy,  I  think  that  is  very  un- 
ceremoniously crowding  us  out  of  our  own  domain." 

"You'll  know  I  didn't  mean  to  do  any  crowding 
when  I  tell  you  my  thought,"  she  returned,  and  nodding 
brightly  at  him.  "You  see,  it  was  she  who  interested 
everyone  of  us  in  Science,  and  I  think  we  ought  to  be 
called  Miss  Katherine's  sheaves.  You  know  it  says  in 
the  Bible  'he  who  goes  forth  bearing  precious  seed 
shall  come  again  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him.'  She 


SHEAVES  361 

sowed  the  seed  at  Hilton  and  has  'gathered  us  all  in' 
here." 

"That  is  a  very  sweet  thought,  Dorrie,  and  it  is  true 
enough,  too,"  said  her  mother,  as  she  bestowed  a  fond 
look  upon  Katherine.  "But,"  she  added,  moving  to- 
wards the  door,  "we  must  go  home  this  very  minute, 
for  it  is  getting  late,"  and  with  general  "good-nights" 
they  also  went  away. 

Katherine  followed  them  out  upon  the  veranda,  where 
she  stood  leaning  against  the  balustrade  and  watched 
their  forms  melt  away  in  the  darkness,  a  thrill  of  loving 
gratitude  in  her  heart,  for,  were  they  not  indeed  her 
"sheaves"? 

Presently  she  heard  a  step  behind  her,  then  a  firm 
yet  gentle  hand  was  laid  upon  hers. 

"May  I  have  it  for  always,  Katherine?"  questioned 
Phillip  Stanley,  in  a  low  voice,  as  he  lifted  and  in- 
closed it  in  both  of  his.  "I  could  not  say  half  I  wished 
this  morning,  dear.  Poor  Dorrie !" — in  a  mirthful  tone 
— "did  not  realize  how  exceedingly  de  trop  she  was, 
and,  for  a  moment,  I  was  half  tempted  to  be  cross  with 
her.  I  saw  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Minturn  after  I  returned 
from  my  drive  and  told  them  something  of  what  I  had 
tried,  under  such  difficulties,  to  make  you  understand." 

"You  told  papa  and  mamma !" 

"I  had  to — I  simply  could  not  keep  it.  I  know  you 
had  given  me  no  verbal  authority  to  ask  for  what  I 
wanted ;  but,  ah ! — that  look,  that  smile,  as  I  left  you, 
made  me  bold  enough  for  anything." 

"And  they- 

"They  told  me  that  it  would  have  to  be  just  as  Kath- 
erine said.  What  does  my  'brown-eyed  lassie'  say  ?" 


362  KATHERINE'S 

Involuntarily  the  girl's  slender  fingers  closed  over  his 
hand  as  she  lifted  frank,  sweet  eyes  to  him. 

"Yes,  Phillip."  Softly,  shyly,  the  coveted  answer 
fell  on  his  ears. 

"That  means  that  you  are  mine,  as  I  am  yours,"  he 
said,  a  great  joy  throbbing  in  his  tones,  "and" — rev- 
erently— "we  are  also  to  be  one,  in  heart  and  purpose, 
in  the  service  of  our  great  cause." 

Drawing  the  hand  he  held  within  his  arm,  he  led  her 
down  the  steps  out  among  the  fairy  shadows  to  a  great 
rock  that  overlooked  the  sea. 

Meantime,  the  "news"  was  being  whispered  among 
the  family  inside  and  was  received  with  general  satis- 
faction, Sadie,  particularly,  expressing  great  delight  in 
view  of  what  she  termed  a  "perfectly  elegant  match." 

Jennie,  on  the  other  hand,  accepted  it  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

"It  didn't  need  to  be  announced,  at  least  to  me,"  she 
declared,  with  a  wise  nod  of  her  head.  "I've  seen  it 
coming  this  long  while,  for  Science  isn't  the  only  ab- 
sorbing subject  that  a  certain  gentleman  has  been  in- 
vestigating during  the  last  year  and  a  half.  But  just 
let  me  tell  you — if  my  name  had  been  Jimmy  instead 
of  Jennie  that  handsome  M.D.  wouldn't  have  found 
such  clear  sailing  in  this  harbor." 

When  Katherine  finally  came  in.  trying  hard  to  ap- 
pear unconscious,  but  looking  rosy  and  starry-eyed, 
Sadie  sprang  forward  and  threw  her  arms  around  her, 
kissing  her  heartily. 

Then  drawing  back,  but  still  holding  her  a  prisoner, 
she  mockingly  exclaimed : 

"Moss  rosebuds !     Katherine,  have  you  ever  taken 


SHEAVES  363 

the  trouble  to  ascertain  what  they  mean  when  sent  by 
a  swain  to  a  maid  ?" 

"Oh!  Sadie,  how  you  do  love  to  tease!"  cried  the 
blushing  girl  as  she  tried  in  vain  to  release  herself 
from  the  clinging  arms. 

"Well,  honey,"  continued  her  tormentor,  "it  was  as 
plain  as  A  B  C  to  me  that  night,  and  I  chuckled  right 
smart  to  myself  when  I  saw  you  innocently  pin  them 
on  your  breast.  It  was  simply  delicious !  But" — sud- 
denly laying  her  hands  on  the  pretty  brown  head — 
"bless  you,  my  children !  you  have  my  unqualified 
sanction  and  I'll  put  my  whole  heart  into  my  toes  when 
I  dance  at  your  wedding." 

With  a  light  laugh  the  gay  girl  bounded  to  the  piano 
and  vigorously  began  playing  Mendelssohn's  wedding 
march.  But  Katherine  had  vanished. 

Phillip  Stanley,  however,  sitting  on  the  veranda, 
across  the  way,  caught  the  suggestive  strains  and 
laughed  softly  to  himself,  as,  in  imagination,  he  sur- 
mised something  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  Minturn 
mansion. 

The  following  day  brought  Mr.  Arnold  to  make  his 
promised  call  upon  Jennie  and  her  friends,  when,  as 
the  proud  and  happy  girl  had  predicted,  it  did  not  re- 
quire much  discernment  to  realize  that  he  was  every 
whit  a  "gentleman."  He  told  them,  among  other 
things,  that  his  life  had  been  rather  a  lonely  one,  as  he 
had  no  family.  Several  years  after  going  to  the  East 
he  had  married  the  daughter  of  a  planter,  but  she  had 
been  taken  from  him  two  years  after  their  union,  and 
he  had  never  cared  to  marry  again. 


364  KATHERINE'S 

When  his  partner  died  he  became  sole  proprietor  of 
their  business,  which  he  had  successfully  conducted 
until  he  determined  to  return  to  America,  when  he  had 
sold  out  to  some  of  his  clerks,  satisfied  to  retire  with  a 
moderate  fortune  and  allow  them  to  have  their  day, 
as  he  had  had  his. 

He  brought  with  him  letters,  papers  and  numerous 
photographs  which  convinced  Mr.  Minturn  that  he  was, 
in  truth,  akin  to  Jennie  and  entitled  to  be  her  future 
protector,  as  he  both  desired  and  claimed  the  right  to  be. 

He  expressed  his  grateful  appreciation  of  what  the 
Minturns,  particularly  Katherine,  had  done  for  his 
niece,  but  insisted  upon  refunding  all  that  they  had 
thus  far  expended  upon  her  education. 

"It  is  but  just  and  right,"  he  persisted,  when  Kath- 
erine demurred,  saying  it  had  been  "a  love  offering,  and 
she  did  not  wish  it  back."  "I  am  abundantly  able  to  do 
it  and  also  to  give  her  every  advantage  in  the  future.  I 
do  feel,  however,  that  nothing  can  ever  repay  you  for 
the  great  kindness  you  have  shown  her." 

He  afterwards  had  a  private  conversation  with  Jen- 
nie, during  which  he  proposed  to  legally  adopt  her,  if 
she  had  no  objection  to  taking  his  name,  and  would 
be  content  to  make  her  home  with  an  "old  gentleman" 
like  himself. 

"Content!"  she  exclaimed,  drawing  an  ecstatic 
breath.  "Well,  for  a  girl  who  has  always  felt  that 
she  didn't  really  belong  anywhere,  that  is  a  prospect 
that  would  just  about  turn  my  head  if  I  hadn't  found 
a  new  chart  and  compass  to  steer  by.  As  for  the  'old 
gentleman,'  if  you  don't  mind" — with  a  roguish  glance 


SHEAVES  365 

but  flushing  slightly — "I'd — like  to  tell  you  I  think  he 
is  just  dear." 

"I  wonder  what  I'll  have  to  pay  for  that  ?"  said  Mr. 
Arnold,  laughing,  but  with  a  suspicious  moisture  in 
his  eyes. 

"Well,"  said  Jennie,  cocking  her  head  on  one  side 
and  giving  him  an  arch  look,  "if  you'll  try  to  think  the 
same  of  me  we'll  call  it  square." 

"That  won't  be  such  a  difficult  task,"  he  replied, 
gently  touching  a  curling  lock  on  her  forehead  that  was 
so  like  his  sister's. 

"As  for  the  name,"  Jennie  resumed,  more  seriously, 
"you  say  my  middle  one  was  given  me  for  you;  why 
not  transpose  it  and  call  me  Mildred  Jennison  Arnold  ? 
Then  I  can  keep  them  all,  and  it  will  not  seem  out  of 
place  to  still  address  me  as  'Jennie.'  " 

This  was  regarded  as  a  happy  thought,  and,  as  soon 
as  the  necessary  papers  could  be  made  out,  she  became 
Alfred  Arnold's  legally  adopted  daughter. 

His  chief  thought  now  appeared  to  be  to  make  her 
life  as  happy  as  possible,  and,  after  consulting  her 
wishes,  he  purchased  a  lovely  home  very  near  Hilton 
Seminary,  secured  a  competent  and  motherly  woman 
for  a  housekeeper,  and  thus  the  girl  was  enabled  to 
continue  her  course  at  school,  as  a  day  scholar,  and 
enjoy  her  delightful  home  at  the  same  time. 

Dr.  Stanley  also  bought  a  fine  residence  in  the  same 
locality,  and  early  in  January  Katherine  was  back  once 
more  to  take  up  her  life  work  'mid  old  familiar  scenes, 
greatly  to  the  delight  of  the  Seabrooks  and  her  many 
other  friends. 

Her  husband  still  retained  his  office  in  the  city,  but 


366  KATHERINE'S 

with  a  new  sign  now  hanging  in  his  window — "Phillip 
Harris  Stanley,  M.D.,  Christian  Scientist,"  and  already 
he  was  becoming  widely  known  as  a  successful  prac- 
titioner. 

Soon  after  their  return,  in  the  fall,  Prof.  Seabrook 
and  his  family  identified  themselves  with  the  Scientists 
of  the  city,  and  also  with  "the  Mother  Church"  in  Bos- 
ton. Some  of  the  pupils  dropped  out  of  Hilton,  because 
of  this  step,  but  others  came  to  fill  their  places,  and  a 
year  later  both  wings  of  the  building  had  been  extended 
and  a  most  flourishing  condition  of  affairs  prevailed. 
Miss  Reynolds  had  resigned  her  position  at  Hilton,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  remained  at  home  with 
her  mother,  and  where  she  also  had  taken  up  her  work 
for  Truth. 

Sadie  Minot,  having  attained  her  majority  and  come 
into  possession  of  her  fortune,  decided  that  she  would 
be  happier  to  locate  near  her  old  friends,  with  whom 
she  was  in  such  close  religious  sympathy,  and  she  ac- 
cordingly found  a  pleasant  home  in  the  city  and  re- 
sumed the  study  of  French,  German  and  music. 

One  morning,  late  in  February,  she  went  up  on  the 
hill  to  spend  the  day  with  Katherine,  who  often  claimed 
her  for  such  a  visit,  for  their  friendship  was  one  of 
the  dearest  things  of  their  lives. 

To-day,  however,  Sadie  appeared  to  have  some 
weighty  subject  on  her  mind,  for  she  was  unusually 
thoughtful,  and  Katherine  was  beginning  to  wonder  if 
anything  was  troubling  her,  when  she  drew  forth  a 
letter  and,  passing  it  to  her,  said : 

"Read  that,  honey,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it." 


SHEAVES  367 

With  a  dim  suspicion  of  what  was  coming,  Katherine 
drew  forth  the  missive  from  its  envelope  and  read : 

"DEAR  SADIE  :  When  the  prodigal  faced  about  to  go 
back  to  his  home,  his  father  went  forth  to  meet  him. 
I  have  faced  about;  I  have  returned  to  my  father  and 
— our  Father.  The  one  has  welcomed  and  forgiven, 
and  Truth  is  teaching  me  what  true  forgiveness  of  sin 
is — the  destruction  of  sin  in  the  human  consciousness. 
Now  I  turn  to  you  to  seek  pardon — nay,  I  suppose  I 
should  'know'  that  I  am  already  pardoned,  since  you 
also  are  learning  to  recognize  man  only  as  his  Father's 
'image  and  likeness.'  At  the  same  time,  some  acknowl- 
edgment is  due  for  wrong  that  I  have  done  you.  Truth 
compels  me  to  confess  that  my  motive  in  seeking  you, 
two  years  ago,  was  not  good,  and  I  am  now  ashamed 
of  my  later  persecution — it  was  unworthy  of  any  man. 
And  now,  justice  to  myself  prompts  me  to  say  that, 
underneath,  there  was  a  real  fondness  for  you,  and  I 
find — now  that  I  am  clothed  and  in  my  right  mind — 
that  it  had  acquired  even  a  stronger  hold  upon  me 
than  I  then  realized.  I  write  this  because  I  am  soon 
to  go  abroad  for  an  indefinite  period — have  been  ap- 
pointed confidential  secretary  to  ,  who  goes,  in 

March,  as  United  States  Minister  to  England.  All  I 
am,  together  with  the  brighter  prospects  before  me,  I 
owe  to  Phillip  Stanley,  who,  next  to  her  who  has  given 
to  this  sin-burdened  world  the  message  of  Love  that 
has  saved  me,  commands  my  deepest  gratitude  and  re- 
spect. Send  me  one  word,  Sadie — 'forgiven' — and  I 
shall  leave  my  country  with  a  lighter  heart  than  I  have 
known  for  years.  NED." 

Katherine  lifted  moist  eyes  to  her  friend  after  read- 
ing and  refolding  the  letter. 

"Phillip  says  the  change  in  him  is  wonderful — he 
saw  him,  you  know,  when  he  was  at  home  for  Christ- 


368  KATHERINE'S 

mas,"  she  observed.  "Shall  you  send  him  the  word 
he  asks  for,  Sadie  ?" 

Miss  Minot  did  not  reply  for  a  moment,  and  her 
flushed  face  drooped  lower  over  the  embroidery  in  her 
hands.  At  last  she  said,  slowly: 

"Honey,  I  have  sent  him  a  word ;  but  it  was  'Come' !" 

"Sadie !" 

"Yes,  and" — a  shy  smile  playing  around  the  corners 
of  the  girl's  mouth — "a  telegram  received  last  night 
reads:  'Coming  Thursday;  sail  March  thirtieth;  can 
you  get  ready  ?'  " 

"You  fairly  take  my  breath  away!"  exclaimed  Kath- 
erine,  amazed.  "And  you  are  going  to  England  with 
him  ?" 

"I  reckon  he'd  hardly  expect  anything  else,  after  1 
had  said  'Come,'  would  he?"  queried  Sadie,  sweeping 
her  friend  a  shy  look  from  under  her  lashes. 

"It  seems  to  me  you  are  not  quite  so  averse  to  a 
European  trip  as  you  were  a  year  and  a  half  ago," 
Mrs.  Stanley  observed,  in  a  significant  tone. 

Sadie  laughed  out  merrily. 

"Well" — the  old  Southern  drawl  manifesting  itself — 
"at  that  time,  honey,  the  attraction  to  stay  was  the  same 
that  it  now  is  to  go." 

"I  am  glad,  Sadie — I  really  am,"  said  Katherine,  af- 
ter a  thoughtful  pause.  "Phillip  and  I  have  often  won- 
dered how  things  would  eventually  arrange  themselves 
for  you  two.  I  must  say,  though,  the  way  you've  man- 
aged it  is  unique  in  the  annals  of  history,"  and  she  burst 
into  a  hearty  laugh. 

"Think  so?    Well,  you  see,  I  didn't  have  any  pre- 


SHEAVES  369 

served  moss  rosebuds  to  send  him,"  retorted  Miss 
Minot,  with  a  chuckle. 

"Sadie,  will  you  never  let  up  on  those  rosebuds?" 
cried  Katherine,  still  laughing-.  "However,  as  I  said 
before,  I  am  glad;  you  are  practically  alone  in  the 
world  and  will  be  happier  to  have  a  home  of  your  own, 
and  I  think  I  would  feel  very  sorry  to  have  Mr.  Willard 
go  to  a  far  country  all  by  himself.  Now,  I  am  going 
to  have  you  come  right  to  me  until  you  go,"  she  went 
on,  with  animation.  "You  shall  be  married  here.  I 
will  matronize  you,  and  we  will  have  all  the  old  school 
friends  on  hand  to  give  you  a  rousing  send-off." 

"How  perfectly  lovely  of  you,  Katherine !  It  will 
surely  be  a  great  comfort  to  me — give  me  such  a  homey 

feeling,  you  know,  and  I "  but  Sadie's  tremulous 

lips  and  an  unmanageable  lump  in  her  throat  would  not 
permit  her  to  go  on. 

"I  shall  love  to  do  it,  dear.  It  will  give  me  a  fine 
opportunity  to  entertain  our  classmates  and  other 
friends,"  Katherine  hastened  to  say.  "But  how  per- 
fectly funny!"  she  cried,  gayly,  "to  be  planning  for 
your  wedding,  and  you  two  lovers  haven't  yet  come  to 
a  definite  understanding?" 

"Oh !  yes,  we  have,  honey.  Ned  knows,  as  well  as 
I,  that  everything  was  settled  by  that  one  word,  'Come.' 
Nothing  but  details  remain  to  be  arranged.  But — oh ! 
Katherine,  how  I  shall  miss  you  !"  she  concluded,  yearn- 
ingly, for,  as  we  know,  during  their  two  years'  friend- 
ship there  had  been  scarcely  a  cloud  to  obscure  the 
harmony  between  them. 

"Yes,  we  shall  miss  each  other,"  Katherine  assented, 
with  a  soft  sigh.  "But" — turning  luminous  eyes  upon 


370  KATHERINE'S 

her — "we  both  have  the  same  shepherd — Love;  we 
shall  both  dwell  together  in  the  'secret  place'  and  be 
ever  working  for  the  same  blessed  Cause.  Nothing 
can  really  separate  us,  dear,  so  long  as  we  faithfully 
keep  step  in  moving  towards  the  Light." 


THE   END. 


/->•>-•* 


C  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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